


My minds like a deadly disease

by redlipsredledger



Series: It's such a wonderful life: The misadventures of broken assassins [3]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Tony Stark, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, F/M, Hurt Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha's past is darker than Tony thought, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Red Room (Marvel), Red Room Triggers, Someone save Natasha, Triggered Natasha, Worried Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-12-26 23:41:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21109091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipsredledger/pseuds/redlipsredledger
Summary: Natashas talk with Tony goes horribly wrong when he pokes at a nerve she never wanted exposed again. He doesn't realise the damage he may just have caused... He triggers the monster she's spent 15 years trying to lock away forever.Sometimes her mind is a prison even to her, but when the monster is handed the key she's in for the fight of her life.This ends with Chapter 12 but will progress in what'll then be part 4 :)





	1. Chapter 1

His lab was probably the only place he knew for a fact no one could bust into with idle excuses for what the hell had gone on here since he'd been with Peter. After he'd managed to smooth things over with his aunt for him, he'd decided on taking Pepper for a much needed few days away; he'd been neglecting his personal relationships a lot lately.

Ever since the Sokovia Accords. Ever since the Airport, ever since going toe to toe with Bucky and Steve it was natural to say that his head wasn't entirely in the right place.

He'd thought a vacation had been exactly what he'd need to get back to some semblance of normalcy.

Cap and Natasha were fugitives, Barnes was supposed to be in cold storage and the others until they'd secured their release were locked up. It wasn't ideal and he hadn't intended for his friends to sit in prison cells and for him to wind up turning others into fugitives from the government; none of what had happened had gone to plan but all Tony had wanted to do was protect his friends and protect the world.

It was why he'd created Ultron, it was why he'd fought so hard for the accords. He believed he was doing all he could to keep the world safe for the people in it that meant everything to him.

It wasn't supposed to go that wrong.

Romanov, she'd betrayed his trust in what could perhaps have been considered one of the worst ways; she _knew _how he felt about Barnes, she knew what he'd done to his parents and it turns out that she'd known that and more all along. She'd been lying to them all for years ever since right back when he'd met her. He'd known then that she was a spy and a liar but he'd never for one second assumed that she was hiding secrets that big or that terrible and it was exactly that: Terrible. He understood where she'd been coming from of course, he had no doubt he'd have fought just as fiercely for Pepper but he wasn't like her.

He wasn't like _them. _

Her file was laid out in front of him and he leafed through the pages, absorbing information that went beyond anything he could imagine. She'd granted him access after all in an effort to show him that she hadn't any intentions of hiding anything else. Tony was a man that loved information and to know that nothing else out there could throw him off balance the way that all of this had and she couldn't fail him for that; he wanted to know who he was working with and that was something that she could understand. She knew all about every single one of them and she had since the start. She'd known all about him long before the two of them had first met.

She was something else and while he hadn't been sure he could trust her at all, he was even more unsure now. He'd never been entirely sure which side of the fence she'd stood on and now it seemed as though she stood entirely on her own side.

Now - as he understood - she'd done everything she had for her own reasons.

It didn't stop him from being angry about it though; she had betrayed his trust when he thought that they'd already gotten through the point where everyone around here lied to each other and she'd brought her assassin boyfriend into Tony's home. He'd always told them they were safe there, but he hadn't meant Barnes, too. He was supposed to be locked away in cryo where he could cause no further harm until someone got whatever was in his head out of there for good.

The truth was Tony just wasn't ready to be around him. The history the two of them shared was still too raw.

He heard the press of the buzzer and the voice on the other side and the moment Natasha's voice reached his ears, Tony practically audibly rolled his eyes. If she wanted to talk then fine. He had questions. He had questions about her, about who she was and about the things she'd buried that she'd done.

He buzzed her in.

She stood there with an apologetic look on her features, the same one he'd seen yesterday when he'd gotten back and found out all about this mess of hers. He leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest as he studied her. 

"I've been reading your file." He stated flatly. 

She sighed and nodded anyway. She'd figured he had been. She'd given him it because she'd wanted to show that finally all of the secrets and the lies could be left behind if they wanted them to be; they were supposed to be a team after all and they couldn't be anywhere close to being that if all they ever did was lie to one another. This team had been the closest thing she'd had to a family.

"Tony I-"

Nat was terrible with this sort of stuff.

He likely knew that already though, never in all the time he'd been around her had she showed so much emotion save for when Barton had been used by Loki. That was the one time aside from this that he'd seen her concede to any kind of weakness and even then she'd tried her best to bury it under the guise of the good soldier. The good loyal SHIELD agent that was just doing her job just as she had been when they first met. It had been a lie then and in his mind, it was no better now.

"You've got one hell of a history." 

His eyes didn't move from her for even a second and it was starting to make her feel uneasy, so much so that she started to pace just for something to do and something to take her mind off of the fact that it felt like his eyes were literally burning into her. She wished that she'd taken Steve up on his offer to come with her or even Clint who'd stopped proving that he could beat Wanda at darts even with her powers in order to ask her if she needed a hand. She'd turned them both down insisting that she could handle it on her own; she was thankful Bucky hadn't offered.

"Yeah. I guess you could say that." She conceded.

Indeed, a complex and long history that none of her team could have seen coming. She felt almost guilty that she hadn't told them who - or what - she was but she didn't know how to even begin to explain it. Everyone would judge; SHIELD had judged what she was early on and the only person that had fought like hell for her was Clint. Clint was because of that the one person that knew a good most of Natasha's story from her herself aside from Steve, who'd learned quite a bit from Bucky, too. 

"You lied for _years, _Natasha. Years." 

She couldn't argue with it because she had, but she'd never professed to do anything but tell people what they needed to know and that alone. She didn't like the thought that people could have too much information to use against her because when it came to people like them information was dangerous. What had happened to Bucky had been proof of that. Information meant that people knew the way to manipulate you and she'd be damned if she was ever going to be manipulated again. Information was power and she'd never let anyone have power over her.

"You know what information can do, Tony. You know how easy it is for people like us to be used again."

She set her jaw.

"I promised myself when I came out of my programming last time I'd never be used again."

Tony rolled his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't understand what she was saying nor did he think that using anyone was a good idea; he'd gone out of his way to protect the people he loved and he hadn't always made the right decisions doing that but he'd never ever allow his friends to be used or hurt. She should know that.

"I wouldn't have used anything, Natasha."

He made emphasis on the words. He was angry and she couldn't blame him for that. He'd never have used her, people weren't weapons to him. All he'd ever wanted to do was protect people. What Wanda had shown him that day haunted him to this day and so, he fought fiercely to make sure he did everything in his power to make sure that didn't come to pass. She should understand that. 

But then, he didn't know where she'd gone in the vision Wanda had shown her because in true Natasha fashion, she hadn't talked about it. She'd brushed it off but then it wasn't like any of them had sat around trading stories. It seemed like things had gone so very wrong since they were all sat around laughing, joking and acting like they were really friends. 

"No, I don't think you would but Ultron? He would have."

Tony had to concede to that; Natasha was right. If his and Bruce's psychotic AI had known what she was and what she was capable of if triggered he was under no illusions that he'd have been used simply to keep them busy if nothing else.

"So you lied to your friends for years?" 

He'd have done anything to protect those he loved but he didn't always go the right way about it.

The thought stuck in his head and he ran his hand down his face in frustration. He understood why she'd done what she had just like he understood why Rogers had but they could have figured it all out as a team, that was what they were supposed to do. Her and Steve had gone against that. They'd stood to his face and lied.

That hurt.

"I lied to everyone." She cast her eyes down.

"Including myself."

It was true, she'd lied to herself for years thinking that she could leave it all behind and that it wouldn't matter. She'd tried to convince herself that it wouldn't ever come up again and that she could move on; she could live with the pain inside of herself but she'd never have to let anyone else know it was there. She'd never have to show them the darkness that lived in her head. They could know who she'd become without having to know who she was.

The logic seemed to make sense to her at the time.

"Who were you before, Natasha? Before all of this? Is any of this even real?" Tony probed.

She stopped pacing. Her green eyes moved back to him and she opened her mouth to speak. She decided against it. Instead, Natasha fell into a lab chair that was far from being comfortable and reminded her way too much of the nights she'd spent in the SHIELD infirmary when one of her or Clint had gotten hurt on a mission. She still smiled at the recollection though because the two of them were huge pains in the ass to anyone trying to patch them up so they'd ultimately just started to rely on each other to do it instead. She shook the smile from her features though because this? This wasn't anywhere close to being a fond memory.

"Different." Was the only answer she could manage.

"Who I am now is real. It's more real than who I was then."

Who she was then was a construct, or a series of them anyway. A series of manipulations and falsified images and memories and moments that meant nothing to her when it was all said and done. She was a series of kills, a series of blood and scars and bad memories that haunted her in dreams that she wouldn't talk about with anyone to this day because it was her pain and hers alone to live with; Loki was the only one that had come close to rattling Natasha.

"And Bulgaria? Was that real?"

iIt was so far the worst thing that he'd read in this file and he had a hard time putting the person that had done that with the person he saw stood before him today. It seemed almost impossible that even an assassin could do something like that.

He spoke and immediately it felt like Natasha couldn't breathe. The oxygen was gone. She pushed herself out of the chair again and she shook her head. She shook it wildly. That was something that she'd spent years trying to find a way to live with. Of all the things he could have asked her, why the hell did it have to be that? 

"Don't." She warned gently.

"C'mon, Natasha. You said who you are is what's real now right?"

He had no idea the thread he was tugging here.

"Tony, don't." This time she snapped.

"You said it wasn't real then, right? So what happened? Why would it matter if it wasn't real?"

"I--I can't breathe." She wrapped her arms around herself.

Backing up, she hit the button on the door and fought back the tears that sprung to her eyes. All she could see in her head was images that she'd fought to lock away for years. She could feel her heart hammering so loud that it was going to give her a headache. She fell backward through the door as she looked for a moment back at Tony before she took off at a dead run.

No.

Not that.

Anything but that.


	2. Save me if I become my demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Bulgaria causes Natasha to start to unravel; Tony doesn't quite realise that he's lit a fuse that may lead to an explosion that she can't come back from. Lashing out is only the start of what she's capable of. Is this a slippery slope or a one-off lapse?

_Bulgaria March 19th 1992,_

She sat at the back of a room, black boots on the desk in front of her as she studied the man in front of her. He handed her a gun and she turned it over in her hand inspecting it though she knew exactly what it was; she half expected him to have handed her a mag full of blanks the amount of times she'd threatened to shoot him.

A short laugh broke her lips and she rose a brow at him.

Kicking her feet down to the floor, she stood up and took the clothing that was on the chair next to her and she looked at them and rolled her eyes. She was to go for a job interview in an hour and she'd better go and get changed, at least that's what Alexei told her.

She offered him a sarcastic smirk as she turned on her heel and walked out of the room picking up his gun on the way out and holding it up to show him as she exited.

She didn't see him poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue and laugh.

Natalia was confident and arrogant, though given all that she'd survived it was no wonder. She wasn't working with anyone on this mission especially not _him _and so he wasn't there to ground her or to help her remember who she was, she wasn't working with anyone this time around but then she didn't need to.

She didn't need anyone to sit with her and smile and tell her what a good little monster she was and remind her that it was important that she got the job done; this time around it was a simple kill mission like dozens she'd done in the past. It didn't matter how it got done as long as it got done this time around which meant that if need be, she could make it messy.

The black SUV that dropped her off at the large, beautiful house contained exactly two people: Her and Alexei who informed her that she'd better do her job and do it well. He'd run his hand down her face but made sure to give her cheek just the slightest of slaps; it wasn't hard enough to leave a mark but it was his effort to show her they were still very much in control of their Black Widow and they'd stay that way. She didn't react in the slightest.

She knew better.

As she climbed out and walked up to the house, she was wearing a very respectable floral dress (that she hated, mind) and a cardigan that she wanted to burn but it was all a part of who she had to become; she was applying to be a nanny for this family after all and she had to get the job. It was imperative to her mission that she got this job. She wouldn't have to be here for long providing she could achieve this much. Naturally, the information they'd put into her head complimented exactly what these people were looking for and Natalia was an expert and sweet smiles and telling people exactly what they wanted to hear. She was one of the very best spies and assassins on the planet. 

She made quite the impression on the dubious mother of the family by quieting a crying four year old with ease; she was adaptive. She could become exactly what she needed to do to get the job done and that won her trust almost immediately; she was informed that the child usually didn't like anyone who wasn't her mother and that was how she'd wound up getting the job. She learned quickly that while the information she'd been given told her what to do, she didn't like children all that much. They were fussy and they complained a lot. She wasn't fond of the child one bit.

But the child wasn't of any interest to her, just a means to an end. Coldness was all a part of what they'd turned the girl she'd once been into. Once upon a time, she'd been just like this little girl, the girl who wanted the security of loving arms and to know that she had someone who would keep her safe but she'd been her age, too, when she'd lost that security forever and she'd been turned into a monster herself. She'd been handed a gun at six and told that she'd spend the rest of her days using it. She'd spend the rest of her days with that gun in her hand putting bullets in whomever she was told deserved to die.

She didn't know better.

She labored through the facade for two days until she'd managed to get the file from her targets computer; he hadn't left her alone long enough before then. Tonight, she'd be out of here. He was a US Government employee here to work with the embassy on security and there was information that could be accessed using this mans backdoor access. It was dumb - she thought - of him to build a backdoor into his own system but her employers very much wanted it. It had a list of US intelligence operatives undercover around the world. By morning dozens of people - if not more - would be dead.

She didn't care though, it wasn't her job to care. 

Over the last few days though and at first she'd found it quite sickening and irritating but she had to admit, she actually started to care herself for the girl which almost made it harder for her to do what she had to do, the child it seemed had gotten quite attached to her. She meandered over to her and she held up her arms with a sweet smile upon her features and asked 'Miss Talia' as she'd dubbed her to read her a bedtime story; in truth somewhere inside of her, it was obvious that she had indeed started to care for the girl too because a kind smile crossed her features as she picked her up and smiled, agreeing to read whatever story it was that the girl had wanted her to read; she'd learned quickly that she couldn't make up stories for the life of her which was funny for a spy. Well, she could... Just not child friendly ones.

Sanitised stories about murder just weren't a thing.

She'd curled up next to the child for the better part of an hour after she'd finished reading the little book the girl had gotten from a friend at her birthday party just a few weeks ago; the girl enjoyed regaling her with the story of how magical it had been. How there had been balloons and music and princess dresses!

"Pwomise we'll go park to feed the ducksies?" The little girl asked.

"I promise, dear one."

"You'll always be here?"

She still sounded excited even though she was sleepy. It was actually quite adorable.

"Always."

She'd been so excited, the bubbly chatter remained in Natalia's head even after the girl had gotten to sleep and she'd gone downstairs in time for her parents to come in. The wifes brother and his wife were staying with them for the weekend but they'd both been watching TV in their room now for about an hour; they'd said something about a movie but she wasn't listening.

Without a word, she drew her gun and took two shots hitting them both in the head, blood rained over the cream carpet as the both dropped, still wide eyed and shocked at what was going on before she made her way down the hall to do the same to the little girls aunt and uncle only they weren't so simple; they'd heard the _pop, pop _from her gun even before she forced the door open, knocking the man to the floor in the process. She turned the gun on his wife first before she placed her foot on his cheek, turning his head to the side before she put a bullet in him, too.

Stepping out of the room with blood splatter all up her leg, she walked back to the front of the house. 

The child woke up.

She screamed and loudly as her big brown eyes fell on Natalia and then on her parents dead bodies on the floor.

"Mama! Mama! Papa!" The girl cried out.

She rushed down the stairs, falling on the last step as she went skidding to her parents bodies and she sat there shaking them, shaking them and begging them to wake up. Her desperate, sad eyes turned up to Natalia.

"Miss Talia! Mama and papa! Mama and papa! Help!" The child pleaded with her.

Sobbing loudly, the girl could barely form words let alone breathe properly. She was hyperventilating.

Natalia turned to look at her with empty green eyes and then turned and walked out of the house, pressing the button on the detonator that Alexei had informed her was left in the mailbox for her earlier that day. The loud explosion had pretty much every car alarm in the street going off and she stood there, watching the building burn and the only thing she could hear was screaming.

To this day, she didn't know if it was her own or the childs.

There was no way to spare her and she knew it; the girl was a witness and all she could do was make sure she died too or hand her over to the people that had raised her for them to turn into yet another little weapon to be unleashed on the world. This one seemed like the far kinder option. She was under no illusion that it was painful and brutal of her but it was still - in her eyes - a mercy.

\------------------------

She hadn't forgotten a damn thing about that day.

_"You'll always be here?"_

She could still hear the words repeating in her head. She dropped to the floor in the middle of the hallway; pulling her knees to her chest and she curled up in a tight ball. Sobs rocked her body as the childs face swam into her mind and the song that Natalia had taught her broke her lips in a soft, sad voice.

A Russian Lullaby that her mother had sung to her as a child, one taught to her mother by her grandmother and then passed to her. It was something that she hadn't heard in twenty seven years and something that she'd sworn that she'd never hear again.

_"Miss Talia! Mama and papa! Mama and papa! Help!"_

She flashed again and the goddamn voice just wouldn't leave her alone. She could hear her sobs, she could hear her begging her to help her and begging her dead mother and father to wake up.

The next thing she remembered was standing outside of the building and turning coldly to Alexei as he took her hand and told her that she'd done well. She'd handed him the disk and then walked to the SUV almost like what she'd done had no impact at all on her.

The fire brigade and the local law enforcement would be here in seconds. They needed to get the hell out of here and they had to go now. 

_"Let's take you home my Deadly little Widow." _

He'd been so proud of her for what she'd done and she'd felt like the good little soldier. She hadn't even thought about the fact that she'd just murdered a little girl she'd promised to be there for or her family.

Alexei's voice rang through her head and she let out a loud scream.

Screaming, screaming replaced the soft singing and she stood up, punching the wall hard enough to put her hand clean through it.

The sound seemed to have drawn attention because the first person to appear in front of her was Clint. He got thrown head first into the same wall that her hand had just gone through. She didn't even register who it was. Someone grabbed her arm and she wheeled around, her knee going straight into his stomach before it came up connecting with his nose as he doubled over. Tony. It was Tony and he'd gone down as quickly as Clint did.

Rogers stopped dead as he noted the two people on the floor and Bucky stared at her, stood next to his best friend with his jaw slack. He looked shocked. She reached down into her boot and plucked out the knife she always kept in there out of habit and threw it at Steve.

It stopped dead in mid-air. Wanda's hand twisted and flicked to the side and Natasha was knocked backward, skidding along the smooth ground and away from everyone else. She recovered quickly but she was restrained as soon as she did. The moment she got to her feet Bucky had hold of both of her hands in his metal hand, the other pushed her against the wall.

"Natasha?" 

She shook her head.

"Natalia." That one wasn't a question.

It was a statement and one that he never thought he'd have to make. She squeezed her eyes closed and she could feel the panic rise in her again as she tried to struggle free.

"No, no, no. Get off me! Leave me alone Just-- Get off me!"

What the hell had she just done? Where the hell had she just gone? Clint stumbled to his feet and staggered forward, grabbing Bucky's arm and pulling him back.

"Let her go."

He studied Barton incredulously.

"Do you have any idea what just happened?" He snapped.

Barton rolled his eyes.

"What, you think you're the only person who ever got to see her darker side? Let go of her, Barnes."

He seemed rather insistent. Natasha hadn't stopped struggling the whole time. Bucky dropped his hands but never took his eyes off of the shaky redhead in front of him who fell to her knees the moment she was released. Tony was back on his feet too. His nose covered in blood and she looked up at him through green eyes brimmed with tears.

"I'm so sorry."

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look and Barton sat down beside Natasha, putting one arm around her shoulder as he pulled her into a hug. Bucky couldn't deny his jealousy as he watched it, but it wasn't about what he needed right now. 

He rounded on Tony.

"What the hell did you do? She wouldn't lose it like that on her own." He should know.

"I asked her about something." Tony cast his eyes down.

"What?" Clint interjected.

"Bulgaria." Tony whispered the word, afraid of setting her off again.

"You asshole!" Clint hissed.

He knew that story all too well. She'd barely come back from that even with the programming and wipes her mind had gone through. He remembered how many nights she'd woken up screaming and crying about it. He remembered months of withdrawing and lashing out, months of pushing everyone away because she couldn't live with doing what she'd done to someone that she'd come to care about and he knew that she'd give anything to go back to that night. She'd never hurt a child before that night or even after it either. It had almost killed her then and he knew they both hoped that she'd never have to revisit it. He knew how hard she'd fought to bury it.

_He shouldn't have pulled at that thread._

Natasha thought to herself as she buried her head in her best friends shoulder.


	3. Thought I could do all this on my own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeking peace, Natasha tries to forget about what happened to her with a quiet night but when she falls asleep, she falls a little further into her spiral. When a fractured version of the Superspy leaves the compound, it's clear that she poses more of a risk than any of them want to admit.
> 
> Just how much damage has Tony's question caused her and can she learn to live with the demons its stirred up inside of her head before she hurts someone else only worse this time?

She'd sat there for what felt like hours with her head leaned against her best friends shoulder before he'd stood her up and took her back to her room; she hadn't said a word to another person for the rest of the day but Clint knew her well enough to know when she just needed silence and she didn't need to say anything at all. He'd seen Natasha back when she was who she was and he'd seen who she'd become over the years and that was largely thanks to him. 

He'd been the one to believe in her when no one else had; he'd been the one adamant that she could change. He'd been the one determined to take a chance on a wayward assassin that knew nothing more than a life of murder and manipulation and he'd told her she could be her own person if she chose it. He couldn't count the amount of times that she'd held a gun on him and not once had he flinched. She remembered one of the very first times she had, he'd stood there for a few moments and left her to it before he grew bored of it and asked her if she was done yet.

She wasn't going to shoot him. Shooting her way out of SHIELD was a crappy idea and she knew it. He'd only let them keep her there for two days before he'd dragged her ass back to his Brooklyn apartment and told her that she could have the bedroom and that he was quite happy on the couch; he hadn't been married at the time nor did he have Lucky. He knew she could run but she didn't and he'd trusted that she wouldn't when other people wouldn't even trust her to move without constant supervision. He'd been the first person to show Natasha what real freedom was. He'd been the first person to really show faith in her and she realised now just how much she appreciated that. 

For weeks, Clint had been the only person that'd go anywhere near her without being heavily armed and it bugged her more than she let on; she could disarm them easily enough if she chose to but she was trying that whole 'New Leaf' thing Barton had rattled on about when he'd brought her in and she wanted to trust that these people weren't like the ones that she'd been running from; she wanted to believe that they were different and she'd learn years later that they really weren't but at the time she'd wanted to find a home somewhere that she chose for herself. She wanted to find a place to belong around people she thought were doing the right thing for once.

She'd done enough evil in her lifetime.

She could have seriously hurt Clint today and yet he'd sat there beside her and just let her be. He hadn't said a word and she knew him well enough to know that he'd never bring up what she'd done again because that was their silent agreement: He didn't care how many times she slipped so long as she remembered to come home again when she remembered who she was.

_Home_.

How foolish of her. How could she have believed that she had a home? She'd known that in the back of her mind that cage still existed and there were still keys out there scattered around that she hadn't been able to collect up and lock away too over the years and today one of those keys had been handed to the monster that she'd worked so hard to lock away fifteen years ago. She lived in a tentative state of existence, one that could be tapped and shattered at any second and she'd lived now for the better part of a decade without any incident until today.

He sat with her wordlessly until around 10 when he'd told her that she should try to get some rest; they both knew it wouldn't happen but he didn't say a word about it. He was a good friend, to this day she swore that Clint was the one person that actually loved her in a pure way. It was the love of a best friend, a true friend that'd never turn their back on her and until him she hadn't known what friendship was. Rivalry yes, she had a rivalry that'd almost ended in blood with Yelena but Clint was different. He didn't care if she was better at anything than him all he cared about was that she knew she had someone she could turn to.

She wouldn't sleep tonight, she'd be lucky if she could shut her mind up for long enough to avoid another episode. He'd offered to leave Lucky though. The dog always made Natasha smile; she'd have gotten her own if she didn't feel so bad for leaving one behind when she went on missions. Liho was resourceful, she took care of herself for the most part and when Clint was out of town he had Bobbi and Kate to look after the dog for him. Everyone around here had become family over the years and now she'd proved to her 'family' that they couldn't trust her at all. She sat curled up in the silence, trying her best to just quiet everything around her.

She glanced up when she heard someone step off of the elevator and she turned away hoping that they'd decide approaching her wasn't really a good idea right now, resting her head against the big, thick cushion that she most of the time kept on her bed. She'd acquired it three years ago when she'd decided that creature comforts were actually a lot better than she'd thought and since then, she'd accumulated quite a few personal belongings, before then she hadn't really bothered. She was starting to wish she hadn't now, either. She'd been convinced it would make leaving easier if she had less to leave behind and now, she felt like leaving may just be the best thing if she was going to keep losing control like that.

The footsteps behind her were slow and careful but that didn't stop her from reaching for the gun stuffed down next to her and turning, pointing it as she cocked it ready to fire.

"You've had a few decades worth of chances to shoot me." 

She heard his words but she kept her finger on the trigger anyway.

"Easy, Little Spider. You're okay."

She felt herself physically wince at the words.

"I told you not to call me that." She snapped back.

Bucky let a small laugh break his lips; she'd told him a million times not to call her that but it distracted her for a moment from wanting to shoot him so he'd take it.

He stood, studying her as she pointed the gun at him because it wasn't the first time it'd happened. She could shoot him and he knew it. He knew just what they were capable of when it all started to unravel and they weren't holding it all together too well. It led to them hurting people whether they meant to or not; he knew that she'd vowed the same thing that he had: No one else would die that didn't strictly have to but that didn't stop it from slipping. It didn't stop them from slipping. It didn't stop them from losing whatever little pieces of them they managed to cling to.

He'd hoped like hell that her triggers were far deeper buried than his were. When he'd seen what she'd done it reminded him of the girl that he'd trained all those years ago and not of the woman that she'd become after that, nor the person that she'd fought so hard to be since gaining her hard earned freedom. He'd hoped that she'd been able to build walls of steel because he hoped someday to do that for himself and it had thrown him to realise just how close it was to the surface even over a decade later. He had no idea what she'd done for it to trigger her like this but, he knew that whatever it was must have been one of the worst things she'd ever done or it wouldn't have broken her.

She'd always been so strong.

He wouldn't ask about it though, at least he wouldn't ask her. Barton maybe, but not her. What you read in a file couldn't tell you what impact it had on someone. He could read her file, but he wouldn't do that to her; he knew most of it for himself but that? That wasn't one of the stories he knew. Even if he read the file he wouldn't know the story or what it had done to her to do whatever it was she'd done just the report she'd written on it all those years ago.

It seemed as though Tony didn't understand that; he had to fight the urge to punch him himself.

"Natasha." Bucky took a half step forward. 

She knew he wasn't armed, no one around here would give him a gun. He saw the flicker in her eyes and the way she faltered. He'd been trained to watch people, to profile them and figure them out but he'd always tried not to do that with her; she'd always hated it when he did it so he'd agreed to stop. He needed to know who he was talking to though and which side of her was dominant right now.

"Clint." She spoke one word.

Bucky clenched his fists at his side. It bothered him that he wasn't the one that was there for her but it wasn't him she'd wanted.

"Clint helped. He just sits there, he doesn't ask me questions." She amended.

"Yeah, he cares about you." He had to concede to that at least. 

She still hadn't moved, the gun was still pointed dead in the center of his chest but he didn't believe for even a second that she'd take the shot anymore than she believed he would in Marrakech. She'd believed in him then and he believed in her now.

"What happened to me was-- I haven't lost control like that in years. He didn't judge me when he'd found out what I'd done no matter what it was or how bad it was."

She knew he understood, he was in the same boat she was and while she hadn't faced the turbulence he had for quite a while, she was still very much balancing on the edge of the same sword. She lowered the gun, disarming it and putting it back down the side of the sofa before she turned away and sat down, pulling her cushion to her chest again and she buried her face into it. He watched her and released a sigh before walking over; he didn't sit anywhere close to her. He knew better. He knew she was balancing right now, holding on if only just barely and he didn't want to be the thing that tipped her.

He wouldn't do that to her.

"Do you want me to go tonight?" He wanted it to be her choice.

She deserved the right to choose. If she wanted him to leave he'd leave, he wouldn't stay if she didn't want him there then he'd respect her decision. She'd had enough people force her in one direction or another her whole life. He'd never be another person to do that ever again. She lifted her head and looked at him.

"I won't sleep, not tonight. If I do, I'll go back. I can't go back again. I won't be me if I do."

She was fighting with her own emotions he could tell, she'd never let herself break so much around absolutely anyone in all the time that he'd known her; he'd only ever seen Natalia cry once, he'd never seen Natasha cry at all, but then he hadn't been back in her life for all that long. She'd seemed so different now, so much stronger but it was amazing just how fast strength could falter when you were faced with something terrible that you were trying to escape from.

"Then we won't sleep. I'll sit up with you all night even if you just wanna sit in silence." 

Bucky released a sigh,

"Nat, which version of you am I dealing with right now?"

He hated himself for asking but he needed to know. He watched the expression on her face and how her breath hitched. She looked almost lost.

"I don't know. I don't know who I am right now."

All she knew was it was somewhere in between the two. All she knew was it was somewhere in between who she was and who she'd become over the years and it wasn't any side that was dominant, at least not right now.

"And earlier?" He knew the answer already.

He just needed her to say it. He needed her to tell him who she'd been so that she realised it, too. 

"Natalia." She hadn't said her own name in a long time.

They were two wholly separate entities and she'd always intended to keep them that way. Who she'd been back then was a cautionary tale that could have no impact on the person that she'd fought so long and so hard to become. He nodded slowly. He knew it'd take time for her to figure out who she was this time around and if there was a way back to who she'd become after that place again. He hoped like hell for her sake that she found that path again.

"Let me help you hold on." He whispered gently.

Leaning forward to place his elbows against his knees so that he could rest his chin on his upturned palm, he reached out for her hand; he made sure his movements were slow enough so that he didn't spook her.

"Let me do for you what you've fought so hard to do for me."

Like she'd said, they needed something to anchor themselves to and she'd been that for him and he knew he could be the same for her if she'd just let him. He had to believe that he could help bring her back because she had such faith that she could do it for him. He wanted to believe that she thought he was something she could hold to and he worried now that it made him selfish. Maybe it wasn't him she needed right now and while he hated the thought of her pushing him away this wasn't about him. He was all about her. He was holding on now far better than she was.

"I know I don't know the life you have now or who you've become just yet but I do love you, Nat. I'm not gonna leave you. I'll be right here."

If she'd let him anyway. All of this had to be her choice. She had to choose what she wanted and she had to choose what she held to when her world was burning down around her, she'd earned that right. She was the only good part of all of the hell that he'd been through but she'd had a whole life since then and she had different people that meant everything to her now, too. 

She glanced down at his hand before she turned hers, allowing him to hold her hand while she brought the other to try the tears in her eyes and she released a slow, deep breath. In truth, she had no idea what she needed to hold on but all she did know was that if she was left alone tonight she'd get far worse. She turned sad green eyes toward him and she tugged gently on his hand, asking him to come sit with her without saying anything at all which was something he was more than happy to oblige her on. Sitting behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back so that she leaned against him and he kissed the top of her head.

"I've got you, I swear."

She had to know she wasn't alone. She had to know that today, now and for always he'd have her back because he'd lost her once and he couldn't stand the thought of doing that again. He couldn't stand the thought of losing her to them to herself or anyone else. He knew he'd never love another living soul in his life the way he loved Natasha, Natalia... It didn't matter to him. He'd lost her once and he loved her no matter what or who she'd become because she'd fought for him and he'd fight for her. He'd fight for her until there was no breath left in his body.

"You've always had my back." She replied.

He could tell she was tired, the events of the day and the war raging on inside of her own mind was exhausting her and he knew it all too well. He knew the tiredness bubbling inside of her because he could remember just how exhausted he'd been when it had all started to wear off in his own mind. She was being forced down the rabbit hole that she'd been trying to fill in for years. She was humming to herself, the same song that they'd danced to all those years ago and a soft smile broke onto his lips. 

"I'm glad you remember that song." He spoke gently.

"I always knew it, I just didn't know why."

She was sleepy, he could hear it in her voice. He knew her, he knew she'd want to try to stay awake but he couldn't bring himself to fight her to stay awake. What had happened to her today had wiped her out and he could see it. He hummed along with her until she slowly fell asleep.

\------------------------

She woke very suddenly and she bolted awake, immediately she reached for the gun stuffed down beside her and she hopped up and sprang to her feet. Pointing the gun at his head this time, she allowed a smirk to cross her features. 

"Don't try to take me on, I've learned a few tricks since we last fought and I have no reason to hold back."

she swung for him this time, connecting the butt of the gun with his nose as he sprang to his feet before she turned and ran hitting the button for the elevator but held the gun on him anyway. Backing into the elevator, she studied the man that she'd known all of her life and yet now, he felt like a stranger. He wanted to believe that she wouldn't hurt him. He wanted to believe that Natasha was in there. He wanted to believe it was just a mask that she hid behind, a mask that could slip and fall to the ground and shatter. He didn't want to believe that it was her mind that had shattered. He didn't want to believe that her trigger had been that powerful. 

Immediately, he hammered the button for the elevator as he noted it stop on the ground floor; his hand moved to his nose just to check if he was bleeding and thankfully he wasn't but he had no doubt that he had a mark from where she'd hit him. If he could catch up with her he could help her. Still, his phone was brought out of his pocket and he dialed Steve's number and said two words:

"Natasha's gone."

Two words that he knew Steve would understand. Natasha was still in there but she was buried beneath whatever layer of hell she'd found herself trapped in. Triggered super soldiers were becoming something of a specialty for Steve.

Within minutes the two men were stood in the entrance of the compound and staring at each other, a set of footsteps had the both of them turn immediately. Standing there with a look on her face that told them both they wouldn't like what she had to say, Bucky sighed trying not to make it too obvious that he was going out of his mind with worry; an armed Natasha Romanov was dangerous enough but an unleashed, unprogrammed Natalia was far worse; he had no idea what kind of devastation she'd cause before she was stopped but he had a feeling that she'd go after people she definitely shouldn't unless she chose to hurt the people closest to her first.

"Well the bad news is Your girl split, Soldier boy. Quinjet about 45 seconds ago."

"Then we'd better track her." Steve replied.

"That's the good news: Already on it. I can tell you where she is right now but I have no idea where she's going or what the hell she's gonna do."

Bobbi sounded sorry even though her husband had been one of the casualties in all of this so far, she actually cared for Natasha like everyone else did. She'd become fond of her over the years and she'd been around since before she'd married Clint; she respected the fact that she was his best friend and she'd become quite close to her herself over the years, too.

She didn't understand what the hell was happening but the look she shot Bucky told him she'd help him no matter what that took and he looked thankful for it, she dipped her head in a small nod.

He didn't need to thank her. This was after all her job; she had access to the most high tech surveillance equipment in the world and access to every GPS satellite in the US. It had been a part of her bargain with the US government when she'd opened the agency. 

And Bucky was her friend, too. She'd promised him she'd help him if he ever needed it and she'd stick to that. She cared about him,too. After all, who else was she going to sit up with in the early hours and trade pointless conversation and a few serious undertones with?

"Problem is, who goes? If there's a team sent after her she's gonna fall further into that abyss, right?" Bobbi questioned.

She had an excellent point. Bucky opened his mouth to speak when he heard someone else.

"I am." Clint stated, walking toward his wife with his bow strapped to his back as he zipped up his vest.

"She came for me."

When it had been him that went somewhere inside of his own mind, she'd fought for him and she'd brought him home again, he was going to do the same for her even if it killed him in the process; he wasn't going to say that though. Drama wasn't going to help anyone right now. Bobbi offered him a small smile; she'd already known he'd be the one to want to do it.

"Alright, handsome. I'll fill you in through comms on where you're going but you'd better move your ass." 

He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him as he placed a kiss against her lips.

"I'll be home soon."

She rose a brow at him and shook her head, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Don't go promising me that when we both know you can't stick to it."

She didn't want him to, though. She wanted him to bring his best friend home. She wanted to save someone that'd fought so hard to save Clint when the whole Loki-mess had happened. She hadn't been pulled in because she'd been on a deep cover mission but that didn't mean she hadn't been mad as hell about it when she'd gotten back and that didn't mean she hadn't thanked Natasha profusely. 

"I'm coming with you." Bucky spoke, releasing a sigh. 

Clint turned to look at him.

"No."

"I wasn't asking."

Bobbi rolled her eyes at the pair of them and shot a look to Steve who interjected on her behalf.

"You're both wasting time we may not have. Go. Argue about it on the way if you have to but go! It isn't about any of you, it's about Natasha. Bring her home. She's what matters."

And while they both knew he was right, neither was happy about having to work together.

Oh, this was going to be fun.


	4. Is this the way we wanna die?

Clint was _pissed. _

He sat at the controls of the quinjet holding on so tightly that his knuckles were turning white under the strain beneath his gloves and the leather protested at the pressure. His blue eyes were alight with fury that he couldn't quite deal with right now and he knew it; all he cared about was bringing his best friend home because he knew that she'd do the same if it were for him. She'd fought hard for him in the past and he had no illusions that this was going to be dangerous but when he'd trusted her all those years ago, he hadn't been stupid enough to believe that it was ever going to be easy.

It remained quiet for a good 20 minutes besides talking to Bobbi over the comms, but eventually he turned to look at Bucky.

"Why the hell didn't you keep her awake? You _knew _how fragile her mind was."

Clint was right, he knew just how close she was to the edge but a part of him wanted to believe that she had more control over it than she wanted to believe, he wanted her to trust herself and he'd hoped that maybe it was just a momentary lapse and it wasn't anything that was deeper than that because if it was, they were all in trouble. Natasha was dangerous as the person she'd become now, if she was to become Natalia all over again these people would be facing something they couldn't begin to understand; the programming in them made them dangerous in ways that few people were able to comprehend and far too many underestimated. He'd known all along how dangerous that girl was and now she had a decade and a half of SHIELD training under her belt, too.

It was like handing a mentally unstable person a rocket launcher and telling them not to figure at the big, flashing red target. He cursed himself internally for it; he should have kept her awake and he knew it. 

"I thought she'd be okay."

It sounded stupid and he knew it, he breathed out a sigh and hit his head against the back of the seat.

"I didn't want to believe it ran that deeply, not after all these years. I thought if she'd been out of her programming for that long she might just--"

He was cut off by Clint.

"You thought she'd just be able to shrug it off? You have _no _idea what they made her do. You have _no _idea how much that haunted her. She told me there are always things that she's never gonna learn to be okay with but that? That's one of the few things that she can't even bring herself to think about without breaking down. She'd spent years - and I mean years, Bucky - trying to bury that someplace deep inside of her. She has maybe three or four stories that she keeps locked inside of well guarded boxes because she doesn't wanna see who she'll become if they're used against her like this was."

Clint knew Tony hadn't meant to do what he had when he'd asked Natasha about that goddamn day but, what had happened had created a split inside of her, a hole that she'd never ever be able to repair and every single time she managed to get it to stop bleeding again, it was opened up and she was swallowed whole by it and he hated it. He wished the hell that he could take it all away from her but there was nothing he or anyone else could do; she had to live with it, she had to live with it even on the days she'd rather do exactly anything other than that.

"I didn't think she'd shrug it off, Clint." he snapped back.

"I thought that maybe she'd find some sense of--" Even to him it sounded stupid.

"Security." Clint finished for him.

"Yeah."

Releasing a sigh, Clint shook his head. It wasn't Bucky's fault any more than it was his fault; she'd done what she thought was right when she'd wanted to tell Tony the truth about who she was and what had happened all those years ago to turn her into who she was today and why she'd made the decisions she had; she couldn't have known that he'd pick up probably one of four things in that file that would have made her turn like this and split. 

"Man, she loves you but you weren't there when she recovered. You weren't there the nights she sat and screamed it all out or when she lashed out that much she literally fell down exhausted and just slept for days. You didn't see it. You didn't hold on during all of that and tell her over and over she wasn't gonna hurt you or herself if she let herself feel it all. You didn't see it. I get that you guys have a history but she's not Natalia. Not anymore."

Bucky already knew Clint was right but he couldn't deny that he hated it; he should have been right there with her when she got out and he wouldn't ever tell her but he felt selfish for staying now and not letting her move on.

"I'm not saying she won't hold on to you or to what you guys have but she needs to be reminded she isn't who she was then and that now, she has a choice. She needs to be reminded that she became someone better because she chose to be; she doesn't need to be held to who she was back then, she needs to be told that who she is now is enough. She needs to be shown that what she has now is more important than what she lost in herself then. Everything in her life was engineered. Ivan arranged the death of her parents so he could take custody of her and use her parents money to fund the program; you were sent in to train her to keep her under control and remind her that there was a bigger, scarier monster out there than her handlers but that backfired like hell on them and I'm glad for that, I really am."

He turned to look at Bucky.

"But you gotta fight for what she is now. You gotta fight for _Natasha_. You have to remind her that she's not in hell anymore and none of the people that love her will ever let her go back there again no matter what the mess in her head tells her. Anchor her to what she is now, anchor her to the person she fought so goddamn hard to become when she didn't know who she was anymore because that's gonna be what saves her; Nat doesn't need to go back any further than she already has. That's what she needs now."

It was in that moment that Bucky realised just how well it was that Clint Barton knew Natasha and how much he'd been there for her when no one else had; it was then that he found new appreciation for the archer and while they didn't see eye to eye - not even close - it was clear that Clint would fight to the ends of the earth to bring her home again and that was something they had common ground on. He knew how much he meant to Natasha but this was the first time that he'd ever really talked to Clint. All he knew about him was what Natasha had told him and all he knew of him outside of that was what he'd observed about him around the others. He didn't know the man in the slightest but how much he cared for Nat was clear.

"She's lucky to have such a good friend." 

"She told me you were jealous." Clint shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't get me wrong: She's beautiful and I love her to pieces but, not like that. Nat is incredible, she's strong and brilliant but we never clicked like that. She's my best friend; she was my _best man-"_ he did the air quotes and all.

"--At my wedding. She sat with me while I agonised over what to do when Bob was shot, she hit me real hard in the nose when I told her that I'd left my wife. She sat with me night after night when I couldn't live with anything I'd done and she just sat there drinking cheap booze with me eating way too much junk food and listening to me complain. I do got a lot of love for her, but it isn't like that. We're best friends and we need each other, but I love Bobbi. No matter how far we go - me and her - we always gravitate back together again." 

They both heard the buzz of the comms and immediately, both of them turned their attention back to their mission; he couldn't deny that he felt altogether more easy now about Clint and Natasha being as close as they were but that didn't seem to matter.

"Regaling romantic stories, really guys?" 

Natasha.

"Nat? Where the heck are you?"

"Mm, not telling you that." She replied.

Both men looked at each other and it was clear they were both thinking the same thing: Which side of her was this and what the hell was she going to do?

"Natasha, please. C'mon, you gotta come home again. You promised, remember? You promised you'd come back no matter how far you fell."

All Clint could do was hope like hell this would work and that he could reach her; he hoped like hell that he could pull her back before it got any worse than it already was. He knew just how carefully constructed she'd made this new life of hers and he'd hate to see it all shatter on her.

"I don't have a home anymore, Clint. The shitty sides of me have been exposed so what's the point? You think they're gonna trust the little assassin?"

She sounded incredulous.

"Your Little Spider, James?" 

She was taunting him now and he knew it.

"Don't you dare do that, Natasha. Don't fall down that hole and pretend all there is left of you is what they made you because we both know that's bullshit."

He was trying not to let his voice crack.

"Stay with me, remember? I've lost you once, I can't lose you again."

He knew using her own words against her would provoke one of two reactions: She'd get angry or she'd break for long enough for them to find out what the hell she was doing and he hoped like hell for the latter because the former was too much to face. They'd been torn apart by cruelty far too many times for them to be torn apart by the breaks and fractures forced into their minds all over again by monsters.

"You asked me to trust you, you asked me to trust that you can anchor me here so let me do the same for you and if you can't do that? If you can't do that you gotta turn to Clint, Natasha. You gotta let him help you if I can't because he cares, too. He loves you too." 

And while Bucky understood now that it was in a different way, it didn't matter; it could be the kind of pure, unselfish love that she needed in order to hang on when she felt like she was losing herself. They heard the distinctive sound of a gunshot and both men looked immediately alarmed.

"Nat? Nat what the hell was that?" Clint spoke this time.

"An end to a chapter that should've been ended a long time ago."

"Nat, what did you just do?" Clint sounded honestly afraid.

\-----------------------

Stealing the quinjet hadn't been a plan, nor had waking up and threatening to shoot Bucky. None of the last 24 hours had gone to plan whatsoever but this, this was her going out on a limb at its best. Part Natasha, part Natalia with neither side of them particularly dominant for too long, her mind was broken at best and she wished she could say that she had figured out a way to gain some semblance of control over it all but the truth was, she hadn't. She was falling deeper and deeper into that hole as the hours ticked by and while a part of her wanted to reach out for help, she was too driven by anger toward what had gotten her here to begin with.

She hadn't been back in Bulgaria since 1992, not since she'd murdered that family and that poor, helpless little girl; her face had never once left her mind, not once in the last 24 hours had she had a moments peace from those big, terrified eyes that begged her for help, not once had she been able to get her voice out of her head, the pleading, the way she sobbed and shook her parents saying Mama and Papa over and over again. It was torture. Torture to the finest degree and she'd take The Red Room and their mind wipes over this in a heartbeat and so, she did the one thing she knew she could do to make sure those people got some justice.

To make sure that little girl got some justice after all these years.

She'd be in her early 30's now and Natasha found herself wondering what kind of person she'd have turned out to be, would she be a mother herself? Would she be happily married? Successful? Happy? It didn't matter what she'd have been because she'd never had the chance and she'd made sure of that. She'd made sure that any potential that helpless child had had died that day and she'd done so in cold blood without thinking twice about what she'd done.

Never had she imagined it would haunt her all these years later. She had no idea how much she'd hate herself but then, she'd never thought she'd break free from that control let alone have the chance to process all the things she'd done or live with the ghosts left behind.

A part of her wished now that Clint had never talked her around that day.

It hadn't taken her long at all to track down Vasili. He'd been the one to pay her employers to kill this family so that he could sell off that disk to the highest bidder. It was him that made sure that the little girl had lost her life that day just as much as she had. He never had to turn them into targets but she had no choice but to be their killer. He'd had the choice to hire her employers, she'd had no choice in what she'd done that day, she'd been programmed to be the good little soldier but him? He'd had every goddamn chance in the world to call it off and he hadn't and now, he'd lived a long and happy life and she doubted that he'd even thought about them once.

Natasha wasn't so lucky, but she'd make damn sure his luck ran out here and now.

She hadn't really intended to contact them on comms but she had no doubt - if she knew Clint - that they'd be coming after her and she just couldn't let them stop her from doing what she needed to do. Was it dangerous? Absolutely. She'd stayed for the most part off the radar now since she'd left the Russians behind but when she'd blown all of her covers with SHIELD, people had started to poke around and ask questions but no one ever had any solid proof, she'd made sure of it but this? This could undo all of her hard work to stay off of that goddamn radar but he deserved it.

He deserved to die for what he'd done.

She had no plan, she hadn't had the chance to watch her target and she had no idea if she'd even get out afterward but, he deserved to die and she was going to be the one that did it for having to live with what he'd chosen to do all these years but first she needed to tell them _not _to look for her; she should have known better than to think they'd listen one goddamn bit but she wasn't thinking clearly right now. All she knew was that she had a target in her mind and that person had to die. It wasn't a choice.

He. Had. To. Die.

She stayed on comms with them even as she pulled the trigger and immediately everything blew up around her with commotion, shouting and gunfire but she felt a sense of satisfaction spread over her. 

"He's dead." They were the only two words she spoke.

She could practically hear Clint lose his shit over the comms.

"Nat, who's dead? What did you do?"

"Vasili. I shot him." She sounded utterly peaceful.

It was foolish and reckless of her and she knew it. She wasn't even running away she was walking. What was the point in running? She'd spent the last 15 years running.

"Who the hell--" She heard Bucky speak.

She smiled.

"The guy that ordered the hit." Clint explained.

It was then that he realised just how much danger she'd put herself in. It was then he realised just what might happen to her. 

"Nat, natasha listen to me: Run. Get the hell out of there now before someone finds you." If she started down this road...

He couldn't think about what might happen to her. If she didn't run and she didn't stay out of sight there was nothing to stop anyone from figuring out who she was. There was nothing to stop anyone from figuring out that she wasn't as dead as she was supposed to be.

It wouldn't stop anyone _making _ her as dead as she was supposed to be.

This was worse than he'd thought.

"I'm not running, Clint. He deserved what he got and anyone that tries? They'll die too."

If she went around dropping bodies like this, the police would get involved. If she went around dropping bodies like this, SHIELD would find out sooner or later that she'd turned and it wouldn't be just a problem for their little family to solve anymore, it'd be far bigger than any of them. 

"Natasha please. Don't make yourself a target, please go. Get out of there. Run." This time it was Bucky.

"Don't make me lose you, not again."

She walked down the street though, refusing to listen to them with her eyes drawn upward toward the stars and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"I love the stars."

And then there was a shot, and she went silent.


	5. I'm well acquainted with villains that live in my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Clint and Bucky find Natasha, they believe that they can reach her but their plan didn't account for someone wanting to settle her own pain. Their plan didn't account for someone determined to right her wrongs no matter what that cost, and their plans didn't account for just how broken Natasha has become.

Bucky and Clint exchanged a look; both of them were panicking.

"Nat? Natasha, Natasha talk to me please." Bucky was pleading.

It had been a long time since Bucky pled for _anything _but all he wanted in that moment was to know that she was safe and well and that she wasn't goddamn laid bleeding out on some Bulgarian street somewhere. One of the two times he'd found her bleeding out she'd barely made it through, the first had been bad but the second had been a whole hell of a lot worse. She'd found him in equal messes sometimes but he didn't care what happened to him so long as she was okay.

The comms remained silent until Bobbi spoke.

"I've found her. She's down by the river Iskar; I hacked into the CCTV system but I can't hold it for long without alerting someone and creating an international incident so move your asses and quick." 

Clint wasn't sure whether to be relieved or more worried.

He knew all too well that Natasha coming to Sofia would be dangerous for her, not only in the literal sense whereby she could get shot and killed by this mans security - because powerful men _always _had security teams, usually comprised of mercs - but it could be far worse for her mental state and she could unravel even more by killing him because it may very well open up a whole new wound. He had no doubt that her already fragile mind couldn't take another blow.

"What the hell happened to her, Clint? What did she do to hate herself enough to make her crack like this?"

"She murdered a kid. A kid that begged her to help her after Nat gunned down her parents. She left her to burn to death when she blew her house."

Clint _hated _that story. He hated even talking about it because he knew what it had done to Natasha but it wasn't like he was telling it to just anyone, he was telling someone that Natasha loved; he was telling the man that Natasha had apparently married long before she'd met him and though it was still something that took him off guard, he knew all too well that screwing around in someones relationship wasn't a good thing to do, not if you cared for them at all and he cared for Natasha, all he wanted was for her to be happy and safe and right now, she was neither.

He watched Bucky to see his reaction though; it was a mixture of sadness, horror and downright shock; he could see the pain clearly on Bucky's face as he came to the realisation that of course something like that would be enough to break _his_ beautiful, strong willed Natasha because Clint was right: She wasn't Natalia, not anymore and she couldn't be for her own sake and Clint breathed out a sigh and shook his head.

"I told you, you have no idea what they made her do. You have no idea what they did to her when you weren't around and the things they turned her into. She hates it. She hates every second of it besides the moments she had with you; she used to tell me that was the only thing that saved her. She used to tell me that it was not wanting to leave you to their mercy on your own that made her not give the hell up."

The more he got to talk to Clint Barton, the more he realised how much he owed him for what he'd done for Natasha all these years.

"You saved her and gave her a chance to be free and I can't ever thank you enough for that; you know these stories, the horrors they've made her do and which are the ones that'll push her over the edge so if she falls further? You're gonna have to be the one that tells us what our next move is because you're the one that knows her best now. You're the one that knows which breaks her mind will take the hardest."

Bucky offered Clint a small smile; he hadn't understood the relationship he had with Natasha until he'd spent this time with him and while it was under the kind of circumstances neither of them would have wanted he was glad to at least understand a little more now.

Clint landed the Quinjet quietly on a rooftop and he looked down at the river below them, three down and one stood with a gun still in their hands and he hoped like hell it was Natasha and that she wasn't one of the bodies on the floor. 

"We gotta go before Local authorities get here or she's screwed; if she's arrested it brings SHIELD into it and if they think she's flipped..."

He didn't finish the sentence and he was damn sure he didn't have to. He'd already started down the fire escape by the time he heard footsteps behind him and he glanced back at Bucky for just a moment before his feet hit the ground as he vaulted over the last part. Walking to the end of the alleyway, he stepped out into the light of the moon and studied the bodies on the floor before his eyes fell on his best friend.

"Tasha, you gotta come in."

Her eyes fell on the bow strapped to his back and she chuckled.

"You gonna threaten to shoot me again?"

She questioned playfully.

"Naw, we both know I won't do it, wouldn't take the shot the night we met and I won't do it now. I'm not here to hurt you, Tasha. I want you to come home with us. You gotta let us help you. It's me, I brought you outta this once and I can do it again. Trust me just like you did and I swear we'll make it right. We'll make it right together."

She let out a small laugh as he spoke.

"I won't go back to some SHIELD interrogation shit, Clint."

She folded her arms over her chest.

"SHIELD ain't involved in any of his, Tasha. It's just us. It's just the team. We didn't say a damn word to anyone and we'll help you with all this crap but you gotta trust us."

He'd made damn sure that no one said a word to Nick Fury because he didn't want exactly what she'd just said. He didn't want her stuck in some SHIELD interrogation room while they poked and prodded at her and '_Assessed_' her mind to see if they thought that she was dangerous or not and if they decided now she was, they'd throw her into some deep hole that she'd never ever come out of and he wouldn't let that happen. He'd fought against it once and he'd do it again gladly.

"I kept you outta that the first time and I won't let 'em do it no matter what they say. I got you, Tasha. I've always had your back. Please, please trust me."

She could tell he was earnest; Clint was a lot of things but he wasn't a liar, not to the people he cared about.

"Three more and I will. Three more and I'll come home."

She took a step back away from him as she spoke. She could tell from his expression that he was worried and her green eyes drifted from him to Bucky who'd remained silent thus far but he looked like he wanted to say something and she tilted her head slightly to the side as she studied him. She knew him well enough to know when he was holding back and now, he was holding back. She knew neither of them thought whatever it was she was doing was a good idea but she didn't care or at least she didn't care right _now_. She cared very much for both of them but her mind was-- well her mind was something else.

Her hand moved to her head and the other tightened the grip on the gun. She reached around to pull something off of the belt on her suit and she smiled.

"Remember when you come around that I told you not to follow me."

She dropped the small thing in her hand before she dived into the river, leaving the two of them to the mercy of the gas she'd dropped and she hoped - somewhere in the back of her mind - that the cops wouldn't show up before they woke up... She doubted it. She'd left quite a mess at Vasili's place. They'd be busy with that for a while.

Mercs were assholes anyway, they deserved to die. She'd never liked mercs.

\--------------------

She got back to the quinjet albeit barely; she staggered with a pounding headache and fell down onto the seat, narrowly missing hitting her head on the console as she tried to breathe through it all. Her mind was jumbled, images, memories, screaming and shouting invaded her mind like a tsunami and she couldn't make a lick of sense of any of it. She slammed the gun down beside her and she buried her head in her arms, screaming out as loud as she could manage simply to alleviate some of the pressure she felt bubbling inside of her and in that moment, in that moment she was pulled somewhere else entirely. Somewhere painful, somewhere cold and lonely. Somewhere she'd never wanted to be again.

_September 4th 1938,_

Ivan took her hand in his and he patted it; he had the kind of wicked smirk on his lips that would scare an adult let alone a child; a delicate little girl that wasn't allowed to be a child was faced with a menacing man, the man that had been left to take care of her when her parents had died but instead, he'd put her in this place; he'd put her into hell and she couldn't hate him for it any more if she tried. He tugged her hand, throwing her into the wall as he pinned her there by the shoulders making sure that her eyes were fixed on his face and his face alone, as tears sprang into her green eyes he brought a hand up to strike her across the face and she could feel the welt forming from his hit but she was pinned there, sobbing and begging him to let her go.

He shook her and hard, hard enough to give her a pain in her head that made her want to throw up. Hard enough to make her bones hurt. He looked positively angry and she was terrified of him. He turned her to look out of the window at the hammering rain and then back to him.

"You will never get out of here unless I permit it, do you understand Natalia? You will never live a life unless I permit it."

He made it clear that everything she was belonged to him and she was little more than property, no better than a dog that he found on the streets and less value to him than the rats that chewed away at the inside of the walls at night. She knew in that moment that it didn't matter how much she dreamed or how much she wanted to run it was futile. She would never ever win her freedom. He dragged her from the room and she felt blood trickle down her face from where he'd hit her and when she reached for it, he looked back at her and shot her a look of warning. She was to leave it, she was to leave it as a warning to her not to disobey him again or she knew that this time he'd make it so much worse for her. He'd make her hurt so badly that she'd wish--

Well, that she'd wish for anything but the pain that he'd bring to her, he didn't know though that she already did; he didn't know that she'd curl up at night and sob, cry to the moon itself begging for help that she knew now would never come; she said her parents names over and over in her head, her brothers... It didn't matter. Nothing was going to bring them back and as Ivan had just told her: She wouldn't live at all if he didn't permit it. If she didn't prove herself valuable or loyal to him he'd have no trouble killing her. She meant nothing, she meant nothing to anyone. He threw her into a room that was dimly lit and on the floor there was a gun; she stammered, scrambling away from it so fast that her back hit the wall hard enough to knock the wind out of her.

"Pick up the gun, Natalia."

She shook her head in a definitive _No._ She was terrified. 

"Pick up the gun, Natalia." He repeated again.

And again, she shook her head.

Ivan stepped forward and scooped it up off of the floor before he walked over and pressed it dead between her eyes.

"You'll learn, little one: You will kill or you will die, it is that simple." And then, he pulled the trigger.

She waited, but nothing happened.

The gun was empty.

"You will prove you are valuable to me little one, or you'll end up like your parents." He shrugged nonchalantly. 

Like their lives meant nothing. She closed her eyes and fought to bury her sobs. He turned and walked toward the door, turning out the lights in the room and locking the door behind him as he left and in that moment she understood what it was he was telling her: She would live forever in the darkness, she would never see the light of day again unless she submitted to him and did what he wanted.

_You will kill or you will die._

He'd make her just like him because she did not want to die; she feared death as a girl, but what did she know of it?

She snapped back, her breathing rapid and she shook her head. She was trying to bite back tears that threatened to break her even further than she already was. She scrambled into the seat properly and she brought the jet to life as she closed her eyes.

_Three more and I'll come home._

she whispered to herself. She couldn't kill Ivan, he was already dead. 

_Three more and I will. Three more and I'll come home. _The words she'd said to Clint remained in her mind as she set her course. 

Three more would die and she'd either find peace, or she'd break into more pieces than anyone would be able to pick up. Which one that turned out to be didn't matter to her right now, all she knew was that she wanted this over for good; she wanted each of them to pay for the terrible things that she'd done because of them and she wanted to balance out the world just a little bit more. She wanted to get justice for those that had fallen victim to The Black Widow who'd become remorseful for her actions years later; Natasha was no fool, she knew she was just as culpable as any of those people were but she'd live with that pain every day of her life.

They didn't even care about the pain that they'd caused but she'd make damn sure that caring about it would be the last thing they ever did. She'd tell them what they were dying for just as she did when she'd called Vasili earlier that day. He'd upped security since then but it didn't matter; he'd still paid for his sins just as they would. Each of them would meet a bullet and how swiftly that happened would depend on how quickly they apologised. Vasili hadn't apologised at all but he was higher profile than her next three targets were.

They'd wanted innocents dead and now, she'd show them all just what it was they'd paid for all those years ago and just how dangerous that monster could be when her cage was unlocked.

They wanted a monster, they'd damn well get one only this time it'd be their blood that'd sate her bloodlust.

Just like they deserved.


	6. Where is the real me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha retraces one of the final missions she undertook before Clint took her into SHIELD and wipes out a man that made her complicit in the deaths and manipulations of people that had trusted her once upon a time... 
> 
> Two down, two to go.

She felt bad, at least somewhere deep down inside she did; she knew all too well that she'd left Clint and Bucky in potential trouble but that had been days ago now, and since then she'd avoided all contact and pretty damn well at that. She knew they were looking for her and a part of her felt a sort of strange comfort in that; it'd take them a while to figure out which of her little cracks had become a big, gaping hole and by the time they did that, she had utter confidence that she'd be onto her next target or they'd get it all backward and they'd retrace steps she'd already taken. It didn't matter to her so long as she cleaned the slate.

_I have red in my ledger I'd like to wipe out._

And indeed, she had so much red in there that she'd spend forever trying to fix it but some pages dripped blood while others ran rivers of it and these particular pages ran rivers deep enough to drown her in them. She sat in an overly noisy club in Montreal; she was sipping the same cocktail that she'd been sipping for the better part of 20 minutes though she didn't give a damn about the drink at all. She was keeping an eye on the son of a bitch that had opened up the floodgates on yet another of her flowing red rivers.

She'd been watching him now for three days and he repeated very much the same routine as he had when she'd known him only now, he had a wife; she pitied the poor woman. She probably had no idea of the monster she'd shared her life with but soon, soon it wouldn't matter because he'd be just as gone as he deserved to be. He'd pay for what he'd done and while it'd hurt that poor wife at first, she'd come to see quickly she was better off without him. She wasn't going to change her mind on his well deserved death because of a woman she'd never met and one that had chosen to marry evil incarnate.

Her green eyes flicked up over her glass as she watched him put his arm around a blonde girl that had to be no older than she was supposed to be when she'd met him; her handlers had him convinced she was only nineteen years old, she wondered idly if this girl was Eastern European like her and if she was more naive than Natasha herself was at her age, well correction: Natalia was at her age and she knew that there was no way in hell she was ever permitted to be that naive and yet the two of them had so much in common. If an evil man had his way, her life would end tonight just as Natalia's had as a child at the hands of another evil man. This man had been one of the worst that she'd come across in the last 20 years of her life, he was one of her final assignments before she'd met Clint Barton that night and joined SHIELD. In fact, she was pretty certain it was her work with this son of a bitch that put her even further on their radar.

Ha, Clint would be retracing his own past too if she was right. There was quite the body count if you counted the guards at the docks that had left their lives...

She watched her target stand up and the girl on his arm stumbled, letting a giggle break her lips that had Natasha's hand close tighter around her glass as she heard the poor girl apologise for having too much to drink only the girl wasn't drunk. She wouldn't even have been tipsy from what she'd actually drank unless she'd literally never touched a drop of alcohol in her life. No, that son of a bitch had drugged her; that was his forte. 

\------------------------------

_Montreal, Quebec June 19th 2002_

Natalia stared out of the window of the train with a bored expression on her features; she was handed a file before she'd boarded and she was told that she was to learn everything before she got off at the other end; she'd read it in the first three hours and since then she'd read it back to front about four times just to make sure that she hadn't in fact missed anything. She found herself staring almost loathingly at the scenery that passed her by; it screamed of a life and a freedom she could never have for herself. She'd long since dropped the pretense though.

She had a few scars that proved why holding to it was a bad idea. She toyed with the necklace around her neck and she wished she could remember where she'd procured it but her mind remained as always blank when she thought about it; she assumed of course that it must be yet another part of the pretense and the facade they needed her to assume this time around. She was posing as a student, a backpacker that had come all across Europe and now to Canada all on her own; she was to pull off her pretense and do it well as she always did because the man she'd meet at the other end would tell him when he assumed what he'd go on to call control over her that it was imperative that she did exactly what she'd been hired to do.

Only, she hadn't been the one that was hired; she'd been the one sent to do the job but she received no payment. She was little more than a slave in that sense and she supposed it was fitting given what this was.

Polite smiles were exchanged with passers by as she hopped off the train with nothing but a bag in her hand; she was immediately manhandled by a security guard twice her size as he all but handed her to her new employer and he informed her that she was to get into his SUV. She didn't ask questions; she knew what happened when she asked questions and she had no doubt that yet another one of the handlers she'd had over the years would be no more than a phone call away to put her in her place if necessary; she'd do her job because she was the compliant little soldier, albeit bored and wanting to get this all over with so she wouldn't have to pretend to care anymore.

Not about him or anything else.

She watched as he placed his hand on the top of her thigh and she didn't flinch, she offered him the seductive smile he was looking for and that seemed to earn his approval; he patted her leg and told her that he'd do her job well he was certain of it and he was right. She'd do her job a little _too _well. 

She was dropped at the hostel at around 7pm, she hadn't been keeping track of the time all day but she was glad to be away from absolutely any kind of transportation; her body ached and she felt like she'd been cramped up for days. She ached to stretch and walk and run and just burn off some of the pent up frustrations that she had, but she didn't have time for that now. She was on an assignment that - as he'd pointed out - was quite time sensitive. She walked into the hostel and she offered the man behind the counter a sweet smile, she looked like nothing more than any other fresh faced, hopeful girl out there seeking adventure and exploration in this big, wide world around them.

He told her as much as he led her down the corridor to a room that she'd be sharing with three other girls; she didn't mind. She'd learned years ago to shut people out around her and besides, these girls were a part of her mission. Immediately, they were welcoming, bright and friendly and she played her part perfectly, her personality complementing theirs easily as she laughed along the jokes, she sang along with the bad pop songs that she'd heard a million times on the radio that she absolutely detested herself but this was supposed to be what _normal _girls her age did and she had to gain their trust.

And she did, easily. Within days, the group of seven of them had become trusting of the young redhead; they had - from what she'd been told - become quite fond of her, they cared for her and they were excited to keep in touch with her should she choose to go in a different direction on her travels despite the fact that they'd begged her repeatedly to go with them. They were friends, after all! She was a part of their group and they cared about her, they wanted her to travel with company where it was far safer. Oh, if only they knew. 

She spent most of her fifth and sixth day on a guided tour around Montreal as they took dorky pictures, told silly jokes, pointed out cute guys, told stories of family and where they wanted to go in life after they were done traveling and how they imagined their futures and for the first time in a while, she got just a glimpse of what it'd be to be a normal girl just like they were, and while she knew that would end very soon and it ate away at some small part of her, she played her part going as far as telling them of her own secret love but nothing more than that despite their exclaims and repeated questions on the matter. She'd never open up about him to anyone, she was sure of that.

It was Seven days before she coaxed them into going to his club, telling them that she was pretty certain that she was headed out the day after; they'd been keen of course to 'celebrate their friendship' and she'd heard whispers of their keenness to use the night to talk her out of going alone and head out with them on Sunday to Miami. A part of her had been tempted for a split second before she snapped back to her mission; it wasn't worth what it'd cost her to be so foolish. He spoiled them all night with drinks, taking them to the VIP section and making them all feel as though they were special and each of them had something slipped into their drinks, each of walked out as the night drew to a close and placed in the back of a van.

By morning, they were to be in a shipping container bound for some God awful brothel in Moscow; what she hadn't known at the time was that he'd make her be there by morning. What he didn't know was that she'd hear them crying and begging, hammering away at the inside of the container pleading to be let out, throwing names of boyfriends, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers... Anyone that made them seem more human to their captors but it would be no good. These girls had trusted her, they had become her friends; they had become the closest thing that she'd ever had to them anyway and she'd done this.

She'd let this man do this to them. She'd unleashed this monster on their worlds and she deserved whatever punishment she'd get as a result of that. She knew what'd happen to each of them, the same thing that happened to every girl who was sold to sex traffickers around the world; their stories rarely ended pretty but she hadn't been there to care. She'd been there to feed him a supply that day and she'd done that brilliantly; she'd broken the trust of people that trusted her and sold them out in the worst and most literal way she could have imagined. As far as monsters went, she was one that wore a very pretty face indeed.

\------------------------------

She'd track them down once she got free, once she'd gained SHIELD's trust Natasha would go on to look for the girls that she'd sold into slavery that day and she'd go on to learn that their stories became sadder and far more horrible once they got to their destination; two survived the four years it took her to get where she needed to be with the access she needed to track them down and what she found when she went to save them wasn't anything worth saving; they were hollow and empty, addicted to drugs with nothing left to live for and a number of suicide attempts under each of their belts and she learned what'd happened to the others. It was something that haunted her to this day especially when she was told that Ahna - the youngest of the group - had seen her as a big sister and had cried out her name when she was being beaten to death, asking her why...

Why had she done this to her. Why had she let this happen to them...

They hated her. Of course they hated her. Death would be a mercy for each of them at this point and so she'd done the only thing she could do: She'd given local law the information they needed on the brothel and she let them do their jobs, silently hoping that this, this one small act of goodness could be enough to get these women finally free, finally clean and maybe onto a better life.

She doubted it though. 

She followed him out of the back of the club and she grabbed a hold of the girls arm as he pulled her toward his car, stopping her dead and Natasha's eyes were alight with a fury as the dizzy blonde turned to look at her.

"Run." Natasha hissed as she pushed the girl behind her. 

"Get in the car, Anatoli." She gestured toward it with the gun in her left hand, the one in her right remained fixed on his security and she reached forward to grab the car keys out of the largest ones hand, shooting him in the thigh when she got to the front of the car and his friend in the knee. He had his gun drawn only he wasn't quick enough. All bozo number one had done was move. 

Shoving the keys into the ignition, she turned to look at her target and a wicked smirk spread across her features.

"I won't make it quick for you. Your friends didn't make it quick for Ahna or any of the others." 

She'd make damn sure it hurt, too. She'd spent days setting up the warehouse as the perfect little chamber that she could use to keep her captive; she had everything laid out all perfect for his arrival and she watched the look of pure horror on his face as she dragged him in and threw him to the ground; the first of her shots was through his hand. He screamed out in pain and she let a bitter laugh break her lips.

"That's only the start. Get your ass up and sit down. Chair. Now. Move." She directed him.

He knew damn well if he faltered for even a second, she'd shoot him without even so much as a second thought. 

She spent the evening slowly drawing out of him the names and information of everyone involved in his human trafficking organisation; she made sure to record every second of it so that when the police found his body in the morning, they'd know why he'd died and they'd know exactly who he was and that he was far, far from the respectable club owner that he pretended to be. He was little more than a bloody, crying mess. His hand - the one she hadn't shot - was broken and badly; she'd made very sure to apply just the right amount of pressure to the bones to make sure that he felt every single one of them snap.

He'd screamed the whole time.

His ankle was broken - he'd thought it a good idea to try to stand up and run - and he had a gunshot wound through his side, a through and through that was a slow bleeder. It wouldn't kill him but she'd had it done to her and she knew firsthand how much it hurt. She'd repeated their names over and over and he'd told her a few times now that she was just as accountable for what they'd become as he was which wasn't something he should have done; it angered her all the more and she decided that she'd leave him in far worse a mess for the police than she'd intended. Each of his limbs was tied to the chair and she walked out once she was done, leaving him to bleed to death.

No one would find him here for a few days and by then, there'd be nothing left to save.

Not like there was to begin with.

She made her way back to the Quinjet as the sun started to rise; she'd stopped off at her cheap pay by the hour hotel to collect her belongings and get a quick shower and get changed first and as she sat at the console now, she picked up the comms device and placed it back in her ear.

"Two down, two to go."

She had no idea who was listening on the other end, she just wanted them to know she was still alive.... For now, anyway. She was tired as all hell and she could sleep for a week, but she had a new destination and a new page to work through.

The sooner all of this was over the better. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could assess what was left of her.


	7. Didn't I tell you you were gonna break down?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Wanda tries her best to comfort a very frustrated Bucky Barnes, Clint and the others pour over her files and Tony comes to the realisation that he doesn't understand the programing in their minds as well as he thought he did. When he thinks he's figured out where she may go next Clint already knows it might be too late, but he's willing to try anything to make sure that they don't lose her trail and risk losing her for good.

Throwing his fist into a wall, Bucky let out a loud sound of frustration before he heard someone clear their throat behind him to get his attention and immediately, he wheeled around.

"I don't think that's going to help." 

She was young, no older than around 20 and he recognised her but he couldn't recall if he'd actually been told her name, the last time he'd seen her was when she'd thrown Natasha down a hallway with a flick of her wrist and so, Bucky studied the young girl curiously. 

"Wanda."

She offered him a small smile as she spoke.

She wore a long, red coat and a pair of skinny jeans and a Ramones tee which brought a slight smile to his features as he shook his head at her. 

"Yeah well, it's either that or I punch Stark. I'm Bucky, by the way."

"I know." She made her way over to the wall and she ran her hand across it.

The indentation disappeared almost immediately and she let out a small sigh as she turned slightly to look out of the window next to it; the sun was starting to set properly and it'd be dark outside soon but there were still traces of the beautiful pinks, oranges and purples in the sky outside and she had always loved them when she was a child. She could remember her mother telling her that when she was a girl, she'd spend hours drawing and painting the sunset because they were always the pictures that meant she could use the most colors. Most kids liked rainbows but not her.

She'd always loved sunsets.

"She will come home." Wanda stated simply.

Her eyes turned to look at Bucky and he understood then that this girl - while young - was far older than her years; she had experiences in her eyes that no child should have and that brought a soft, sympathetic look to his features.

"HYDRA used my brother and I, too. We have abilities; we are what they call Mutants but they experimented on both of us. We were taken when our home was bombed, promised safety and a better life but it was all lies." Her eyes flicked to the floor.

He could tell this was a painful story for her; Bucky reached out to place his hand against her shoulder and he gave it a gentle squeeze. He'd been used by HYDRA and the Russians alike over the years, turned into a weapon and been robbed of any semblance of humanity left in him until a few years ago when he'd broken free of their control and he hadn't stopped looking over his shoulder ever since. She was safe here and he could tell that while she was in pain she knew that, too. She seemed to trust this as a home whereby she could be herself or he supposed she wouldn't be padding around here barefoot. She shrugged out of her jacket and discarded it before she stretched up lazily.

"Don't feel bad for me." She smiled and bumped his shoulder.

"I do not regret what I went through; I have learned a strength in myself I would not have been able to live without." Wanda shrugged her shoulders as she spoke.

Bucky released a soft sigh and shook his head; they were wasting time here and he knew it but he'd been forbade from sitting around with the rest trying to read through Natasha's file in order to work out where she'd go after Bulgaria because he'd been too emotionally volatile about it. He still felt the sting in his pride that she'd gotten the best of both of them so easily; he should have seen the tricks coming a mile away but he'd never thought that she'd use anything like that.

That was a new one to him.

"They're trying to help you." Wanda spoke, she sounded almost sad.

"Natasha is a good person."

"She is. She's just a little lost right now."

Bucky replied as he turned to look out of the window. 

"But we don't have the time to sit around and do--"

She frowned at him.

"Do nothing?" She interjected.

He released a sigh but nodded anyway.

"No one is doing nothing, Bucky. Vis is tapped into Bobbi's security network, they're reading through her files and sorting out possible locations. We've got access to local law enforcement databases in those places that seem most likely but there has been no news anywhere they thought she'd go so far."

It wasn't like they weren't trying. She could understand his frustrations though; she'd have felt exactly the same if it wasn't for the fact that she knew these people well enough to know they wouldn't let one of their own stay out there in the cold on her own while she lost herself little by little. That wasn't who they were; they fought so fiercely for one another even in the times where they didn't see eye to eye. None of them would let anything happen to the others and she'd come to admire that. It had been something that she'd never had in her life bar her mother and brother; they were the only ones that ever fought for them and her mother had died in an explosion while her brother...

Well, his search for their father had meant that she hadn't heard from him in months now. 

"They're trying. T'Challa has people out looking for her, too. Everyone is trying."

Natasha was a spy though and they knew better than most how to disappear.

"They need to let me help." He was frustrated.

She placed her hand against his arm and shook her head though.

"No, they need to work and you need to focus on the fact that when they find her, you have to move quickly and remind her who she is. You have to focus on how you're going to connect her to the good in her while trying not to lose it in yourself, too. No one around here is oblivious to the fact that you and Natasha could very well share triggers." 

And losing the both of them would do no one any good.

He knew she was right but that didn't stop him from feeling useless. Wanda was wise for someone so young and Bucky in truth found her presence comforting; it was nice to know that they weren't willing to leave him here alone while they tried to find a way to track the woman he loved. It was comforting to know that someone sought to give him company in a time where he'd struggle alone.

Maybe he could find a home here with these people after all.

\-------------------------

"Alright so, we've got five other viable possibles and I think we can rule out at least four of the ones on the '_Maybe_' pile because two of them are dead and the other two as far as I can tell are in prison for their crimes but the police records may be out of date."

Bobbi pushed the other pile of files to the left and away from the group, she hoped like hell they weren't because they needed to narrow all of this down otherwise they'd never find her.

She glanced to Clint and tried her best to offer her husband a reassuring smile.

"Five is better than we had an hour ago." She spoke gently.

"But five isn't telling us where she is now."

Clint was clearly frustrated with all of this and she knew it. She couldn't blame him; it was his best friend out there putting herself in untold danger while she slipped further and further into the darkness in her own mind and she couldn't imagine that it was easy for him to see all of this all over again, not when he'd fought so hard to bring her out of it the first time around. She knew how important Natasha was to Clint, hell she knew how important Natasha was to everyone here but they were doing all they could and all she could do was hope that it'd be enough.

All any of them could do was hope that it wouldn't be too late.

Tony reached for one of the files and flipped through the pages, pressing the button on his watch as he scanned it into his computer system and pull it up in front of them so that he could see the man in the picture better. 

"I think we have a rough idea of what makes Romanov hate herself so we need to be looking for the ones with the most painful stories and the most destructive endings." He swiped his hand left to flip to the next page.

"My bet is she's either going to Montreal or Havana. They're the ones that seem to be the darkest stories."

He released a sad, deep sigh. He was more than aware that this was his fault and while he hated himself for it, there was no time for him to be dwelling on any of it; dwelling on it wouldn't help anyone to bring Natasha home before Ross or SHIELD got involved and buried her in some deep hole that she'd never be able to get out of no matter what any of them said or did for her and he didn't want that to happen to her. She deserved better than that. She'd proven herself a thousand times over to him, to the team and to SHIELD and he'd be damned if she was going to lose it all for his mistake.

"I never meant for any of this to happen." He shook his head as he turned to Clint.

"Vis, can you tap into police frequencies in any of them? Check chatter, check reports in the last 48 hours for anyone being found dead under extreme circumstances or suffering a messy end." That was what made the most sense.

To him, anyway. That was what made the most sense to him. It was what he suspected she'd do from what he'd come to know about her.

"Both have reports of suspicious deaths in the last 48 hours, Sir." Vision replied.

"Wait." Clint stepped forward and flicked his hand right back to the picture on the screen.

"I know that guy. A SHIELD tac team was sent in to bust some human trafficking ring back in 2002. That asshole was supposed to be involved but no one could prove it but they could prove Natasha was on scene. Surveillance showed her at the docks right before a shipment set off."

It was one of the first times that he'd seen anything on the famous Black Widow and one of the many things that SHIELD would add on top of their already huge reasons to send him after her. 

"I think that's where she'll go. I think that she'll retrace that."

"Why?" Bobbi turned to her husband with a soft frown.

"I just have a feeling."

"Alright, you'd better go find Barnes and tell him it's time to go because--"

And she was cut off by the sound of Natasha's voice on the comms unit.

"Two down, two to go. We need to hurry or we're gonna lose her trail." Clint ran his hands down his face in frustration.

He pressed the unit in his ear anyway.

"Nat, please stop. This is gonna end bad." 

Very messy too if too many people got involved outside of this group. He of course didn't get an answer. He sighed and walked out of the lab in an attempt to find Bucky and let him know that they needed to move. If they couldn't at least figure out if she had indeed been there they'd never know where the hell she might go next.

\-------------------------

She watched Clint walk out of the room and Bobbi released a small sigh. Turning to Tony, Vision and Steve she shook her head and sat down on one of the lab chairs. She hated all of this, that was no secret at all but there wasn't all that much she could do about it. All she could do was put her all into finding Natasha because she knew how much it'd break the man she loved and the man Natasha loved if they happened to lose her to all of this for good. Tony noted the way he was looking at her.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen." 

She already knew that he didn't, but the truth was that Tony had a hell of a lot to learn about all of this before someone else got hurt. He had a hell of a lot to learn about what was locked away inside of these peoples minds. It was dangerous and volatile. It was hell and nothing that should be poked and prodded by someone for lack of understanding.

"Just learn, Tony. What these people are isn't their fault and making out like they're monsters makes them believe they're exactly that. They're good people. Natasha is a good person, Barnes is a good person; they've made mistakes but you find one of us that hasn't."

She knew what Bucky had done to Tony's parents. She knew how much it had hurt him and how it'd nearly torn their team apart, so much so that Clint was dragged from her brothers wedding to figure out how to stop his own friends from signing accords that were going to do nothing but harm people. She was someone that was going to understand what darkness people had in them because she understood what evil lay in her, too.

"I get that you're hurting, I get that you don't understand how anyone could do what he did but I promise you what's inside of them both can't be controlled so easily. If this can teach you anything? Please let it teach you that someone like them can still be human, too. You've seen how much this is tearing him apart. Barnes isn't a monster, not deep down. He hates himself more than you can ever hate him. He killed someone that was his friend once." 

She reached to pat Tony gently on the shoulder.

"I'm not telling you to get over this but I am telling you that you need to understand that they have no choice in what they become once the thing in their heads is messed with."

She hoped like hell that he started to understand that. Steve - who'd been silent the whole time reading through more of Natasha's files - offered Bobbi a thankful smile.

"She's right, Tony. Bucky and Nat are the kinds of people we're only beginning to understand. We've got a lot to learn from both of them before we can even start to figure out what's in their heads or how to make sure that what happened to Natasha doesn't happen again."

Steve flicked blue eyes to Tony.

"No one is asking you to forgive him just accept that we're telling you the truth when we tell you he had no choice. Zemo only ever pointed out half the story. The other half is years or torture, abuse, beatings, manipulations, death, being forced to lose everything you cared about over and over and over again."

He couldn't imagine a worse kind of life.

\-------------------------

"Montreal, are you sure?"

Bucky questioned as Clint set the course. The archer nodded.

"About as sure as any of us can be." He released a sigh.

Shaking his head, Clint wished the hell that they'd get there and she'd be there and she'd ask them for help to come home but he knew better. He knew it wouldn't happen and he dread to think what kind of mess he was walking into when he got there. While he knew that Bucky wanted to help, he also knew that these were breaks in Natasha's mind that Bucky wasn't aware of and stories that he'd been told that she hadn't told anyone else and he knew this story too. He remembered her telling him about the human traffickers that she'd been forced to work with once and how it had killed her to do what she had but-- 

He didn't know the whole story he was guessing; he'd told her that she'd tried to track down the girls once she'd started working with SHIELD. He guessed the fact that she hadn't told him exactly everything was because this - like the fire - was something she'd struggled to live with and maybe it was the parts of the story that she hadn't told him were the reasons that she'd done what she had, that was if they were even right about any of this. For all he knew, they could be going to the wrong place entirely and wasting time that he knew they didn't have.

"I hope like hell we're right. We don't have time for a hit and miss this time, the more time we waste on false leads is more time she has to slip further away."

Clint was angry, frustrated and obviously in a hell of a lot of emotional pain by all of this and Bucky understood that better than anyone. He was watching the love of his life slip into something that he was desperate to pull her out of but she wouldn't let him get close enough to her to talk to her properly let alone try to hold her so that she could be reminded that someone loved her and she had a reason to fight her way out of this just like she'd done for him. He wanted so desperately to save her from this.

She was never someone that had needed saving, not like this.

"I love her. I love her and I'm losing her."

And there was nothing anyone could do to save him from that.


	8. I don't wanna think that I won't see tomorrow

She felt automatically calmer. Two down, two to go. Vasili and Anatoli both deserved to die; they were evils that this world were far better off without and while she knew all too well that killing them would likely draw attention she knew she had to do it. She knew for her own sake that she had to; she was aware that she was already a few steps ahead of her friends and that meant there was a solid chance she could finish what she needed to do before they caught up with her which meant there was a very slim chance anyone would be able to talk her out of it.

Her next target was Havana, Cuba. 

This one was before Anatoli, one that she'd avoided until near the very end because if there was one thing that she hated it was Cartel involved crap; she knew how complicated that got and how quickly it got messy and this one, she'd been researching this one since the very start because she knew that she had to work out if he still had the same security that he used to; he didn't of course. He had a compound now and that would make it all the more difficult but if she could line up a straight shot from a vantage point taking him and him alone out would be simpler than going in guns blazing but this was Natasha; she knew all too well that she may not keep the control over herself that she had now.

If the rational part of her was the one pulling the strings she could make it a clean kill, in and out without anyone realising anything but if she happened to falter and lose that control it would be a full blown assault and she had no way of knowing if she'd survive or not; a part of her wasn't sure that she even cared anymore. She was just as much of a monster as those she was hunting. She wondered if Bucky had remembered Havana yet and if he'd know that she'd come here. She wondered if all of the little pieces of him had put it together in his mind that this was where she'd end up sooner or later. It made sense. 

This one hadn't been something specific that she'd done that had made her turn, but this was something that she had watched and stood idly by and did nothing about and that was just as bad to her as doing it herself.

She sat by the side of the pool; his house was ostentatious and she'd always hated that kind of stuff. He was having a party during the day which was something that baffled her; people like him shouldn't be showing off their wealth but they also thought that they were untouchable and that made it easier for her to scope out the security and figure out how - if needed - she'd get in and out without sustaining too much damage or making it too complicated.

This was never going to be simple it didn't matter which way she tried to figure it out. Sitting even in the same place as him made her skin crawl; she'd hated him since the very second she'd first laid eyes on him and that hadn't changed now. He was a loathsome little creature. 

She watched him pulling girls onto his lap while his wife watched from under the sheltered security of a canopy. On either side of her stood two large security guards who had guns bigger than the woman herself seemed to be and Natasha pitied her; she seemed like more of a prisoner and she suspected that she was right. Women were often too afraid to leave men like him no matter what they did to them and as she slowly meandered through the dancing crowds, she got close enough to see a bruise on the woman's cheek and she knew she was right. Abusive son of a bitch.

She made sure not to keep a direct line of sight though, she didn't want him looking twice at her and all she needed was a quick glance inside to see what the security system was like; it was a keypad lock which would be a challenge and from what she could see, every window on the ground floor was wired but she wondered if he'd been smart enough to do the rest of them, too, or if his arrogance thought that no one would make it past his security in order to get close enough to try it. She hoped for the latter because he was sadly mistaken; she was far better trained than any of them were.

\------------------------

_Havana, Cuba June 1st 1995_,

She looked incredulously at James as she studied the file that he'd handed her and he seemed amused at the look on her features, so much so that he laughed and shook his head at her. She tossed it onto the table and rolled her eyes.

"A Cartel drug lord?" Oh, she hated those types.

"We have to play _security_ to a Cartel drug lord?" 

She'd guessed he'd been the one that offered to give her the briefing given the fact that it was him in here and not one of their handlers. She folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. He nodded his head in response to her question though she already knew the answer and he knew she did. The Little Spider was a smart girl, he could see the fury dance across her features and he let out a small chuckle. They'd both be going in for programming soon enough before they were sent into the world and so, her opinion on the matter would no longer matter and neither would his; they'd be aware of the fact that he'd given her the briefing and maybe a little of their conversation but that would be about it.

They didn't have the luxury of going in this time as they were. Their handlers were being paid handsomely for this from what he'd overheard and they wanted the job done properly; he and Natalia were their best team but they couldn't risk a falter in either of their agents and while he was dreading what was coming, he appreciated just these small moments he'd have beforehand where he was himself and she herself. 

"Now now, Little Spider. You and I both know we'll do our jobs properly."

It wasn't a question of whether they wanted to or not, they'd be forced to. He shrugged away from the wall and picked up the file as the light above the door turned red and he released a sigh. It was time to go.

"Don't fight it."

He warned her gently and quietly as they both made their way toward the door.

"It'll be worse this time if you fight it. They've got a new cocktail to give us."

He'd overheard that, too. They exchanged a look and he could see the grimace that shook her body. He released a sigh and reached down to squeeze her hand gently making sure to keep it out of the line of sight of any of the security cameras. He had no way of knowing if this new cocktail of drugs would cause more damage to either of them or if anything of the two of them would shine through after they'd been given it but he hoped like hell that both of their minds were strong enough to recover from it. He didn't want to lose her for good to something they'd put inside of them this time.

Within hours, both soldiers sat side by side in the back of a cargo plane in full tac gear with dead stares and expressionless faces as their plane came to land in an airstrip and they were informed that their new employer was waiting for them on the tarmac and that they were to complete their mission with the utmost efficiency. They both nodded and turned to walk down the ramp and out into the hot evening air.

***

Every day, he took them both out to his production plant so that he could count up what would go on to be his profit once it was handed off to the Cartels and the others that sold far more locally; she never did understand drug use herself but she knew that these people were... Well... In places like this it wasn't uncommon. Every day though it was a repeat of the same thing: The people working there would either be denied food if he thought that they hadn't worked hard enough for the day or one or two of them were shot in front of the others to remind them what'd happen if they weren't 'productive enough'.

This went on for almost a week and the more it did, the more she resented him especially because he made them supervise burying them afterward; their families would have no closure and in truth, even in her present state of mind she knew that wasn't right. It ate away at her conscience. Each day, he'd find a new way to remind them that he owned them for the duration of their 'contract' and a lot of the time, that involved him either pointing a gun at one of them or reminding her that he could do whatever he wanted to her and there was nothing she could do about it.

The look in James's eyes said differently though.

It seemed after the events of the last few days that their mission would be easy and once the meeting with the Mexicans was over tonight, they could probably be dismissed and they'd be back on their way home with nothing to properly report beyond a successful, quiet mission and she was glad for that; she had aching muscles that longed for a decent fight and she was bored out of her mind standing there day after day but she was supposed to be their 'wild card', the one that people would underestimate and that was why she was supposed to run point on tonights security during the meeting. He'd already told her no one would take a girl seriously.

More fool them. She was deadlier than anyone he'd ever met, and far deadlier than anyone that this Cartel had to offer both his and the one that they were meeting with tonight. She stood there and took her orders with a sweet smile, nodding her head as he handed her a gun to tuck into the thigh holster strapped beneath her dress; that was the rule: They weren't permitted arms when they were working for someone unless they were handed it by their handler, whomever that may be at the time. She was stood behind him with her hand on his shoulder where he'd instructed her to be when they walked in and she stood paying attention to absolutely everything around her but appearing as though she wasn't. It was her job to appear oblivious. 

The Red Room wanted the intel she could gather to hold over this man should they ever wish to and he had told her that she mustn't learn too much because it was bad for her to know too much and so, she looked as though she was oblivious to what was going on around her with a seductive smile flicking onto her lips any time anyone looked at her. She was glad that this mission wasn't one of _those _because they were the worst.

After a half an hour, the leader of the Mexican group asked if they could see his production plant and of course, her employer complied; she found herself shuddering softly at the thought of it because she'd come to associate it with more blood being spilled and she and James accompanied them to a small warehouse about an hour out of town where they came face to face with the people that had been producing this mans product the whole time and she counted them in her head; there were 14 of them all together. It was less than the 22 that there had been at the start of the week.

All women just like there had been, two of them pregnant in their underwear and face masks to make sure that they couldn't steal anything; she'd tried her best not to pay excessive attention to any of them because it'd make watching them get buried later on easier on her and the Mexicans seemed quite satisfied until they got outside and her employer turned to look at them with a somewhat menacing look on his features. He informed all of them that 'It was a good job that willing workers were easy to find' because now everyone in here had to die.

They'd seen the faces of the Cartel leaders and he knew that that couldn't stand and so, she'd been forced to stand there and listen to the two men that had walked back into the building kill every single person in there with a hail of bullets; each fire of the gun and each scream seemed to entwine itself in her mind and she clenched her fists at her side; James held her in place with a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

She was just starting to come around from the cocktail of drugs and the screams reminded her too much of the girls that had been lost to her program over the years with executions to meet their failures; she'd been the one to pull the trigger sometimes, too. It was torture.

After a few moments, he turned to look at the pair of them and he pressed the gun in his hand between James's eyes, tilting his head to the side as he laughed and told the both of them that it was a good job they were someone else's property or they'd have met the same end yet again. To his credit, James didn't even flinch or even so much as blink. She wished she could say the same because her hand clenched into a tight fist.

One of the men pulled the final woman from the building and he threw her at the feet of his boss and he stood there and studied it, his foot came up to strike her across the face as he turned to his guard and asked him why the hell he'd brought her out here and he informed him that she claimed the child she was carrying was his and he asked what he was to do with her. He didn't care though; he let out a cold laugh as he turned to look at Natalia and gestured to her. 

"Earn the money I paid for you."

And she put the gun to the womans temple and pulled the trigger. He'd made the final kill hers.

He seemed proud of himself for what he'd done, and the following morning both of them were dismissed and she'd had nightmares about him killing those women and threatening to kill the man she loved and all of the times that he'd told her that he could do terrible things to her for three months afterward; it had reminded her that nothing she was was her own and that - even to someone like her - was bound to create fractures in their psyche.

She'd hated drug lords even more since that day.

\------------------------

She'd killed hundreds of times before it wasn't like that was any different but he'd made her kill that woman who pled for the life of herself and her child, a woman who reminded her of her mother who was pregnant when she'd been murdered too while making her feel like she was property. He'd threatened to kill James if it weren't for the fact that they were to be sent back to their handlers in one piece. She hated the loathsome little creature and she'd be more than happy to put a bullet in his head. 

Dusk rolled around and he dismissed the guests of the party and she left with the rest of them, planting a bug on her way out so that she could keep track of his security team if she happened to decide that causing a huge deal of it all was the best course of action; she was teetering too closely between the two sides of her for either one of them to be dominant and the darker side of her screamed at her to drop them all. To make them all pay for all of the evils that this man would have had them do over the years; they were just as culpable and as guilty as he was.

She faltered, her hand shooting out to lean against someones car as the screaming voice in her head had her reaching for her gun. The rational side of her was quickly losing ground to the darkness inside of her and the triggers that she'd been fighting to control hard for the last 24 hours so that she could do this in a rational, logical way and still set herself at some kind of peace with it. Natalia wanted the blood that he'd forced her to spill while the image of him holding a gun on the man she loved remained in her mind and it seemed that she'd win, too. He'd wanted guarding by wolves years ago and she'd be more than happy to remember that a wolf could - and would - attack back.

\------------------------

Montreal had been a wash; they'd been too late just as Clint feared that they would be and they were halfway back home before Bucky convinced him that Tony had a point.

Havana was probably on her list of targets; he'd been thinking about it all day while Clint played SHIELD official with the CMP and he'd at first remembered a mission that had been drenched in blood from start to end and to her credit, she'd managed to keep her composure and do her job regardless of what this bastard had done to either one of them until the end when he'd had a gun pointed at his head yet again and then Natalia had been forced to gun down a pregnant woman while they were both reminded that they were little but property and that their lives would have been forfeit of not for that fact; he saw the way that killing that woman had affected her even if she hadn't said it.

Between that and the screams, he knew that something inside of her had connected it to a pain that she'd grown up with and he'd left her to bury it because that was what it seemed she'd needed, now he wasn't so sure. 

He should have asked her. He should have pressed her to talk about it but he hadn't. They'd have been punished if he had but maybe it was worth it if it meant that this didn't have to happen now.

"How do you know she'll even go here, anyway?"

Clint muttered as they landed, glancing around out of the window as he huffed out a sigh; he hated it when it was too hot. 

"Same reason you knew she'd go to Montreal. This is something that connects her to who she was and reminded her of how much she hated it all at the same time."

If they were too late this time around it was unlikely that they'd find her before she completed her list and he didn't want to see what would be left of her if that happened. If she completed her list, he had a feeling that it'd be the final nail in the coffin and that she might just be too far gone into her break. If they caught her before she finished, they may very well be able to convince her that going back to what they'd turned her into wasn't what she truly wanted but if they happened to mess it up and catch her after the final kill? Even if they found her at all, someone else might start looking too and she'd worked too hard to stay away from them.

They spent hours scouring the city and honestly, by the time midnight rolled around he was starting to think that they'd never get anywhere with finding her; he was honestly worried that he'd been wrong this time around and that they were wasting valuable time that they didn't have to waste because they needed to find her and stop her before she did something she wouldn't be able to come back from; the research that Bobbi had been able to scrub together quickly with Tony's help had told them that if she were to do anything here, she was going to cause a hell of a scene because this guy lived in a heavily guarded compound now.

Of course he did. Son of a bitch, they should have killed him years ago.

He didn't want it to be Natasha that pulled the trigger though because he knew that more bloodshed would detach her more and more from the humanity that she'd fought so hard to find in herself for all these years and he didn't want that; she deserved better than that. She wasn't him. She hadn't been anything like him all along and unlike him, her missions didn't always end in someone dying and this didn't have to either. No one else had to die here and not by her hand. If she wanted someone to pull the trigger, he'd do it for her so that she wouldn't have to live with it.

He needed to stop her before anyone else was killed because the dots were going to connect eventually.

"Looks like you were right, soldier boy. I have a hit on one of the street cams; she's literally down the road from the compound. She doesn't look like she's doing so hot, guys. You'd better move." Bobbi sounded worried.

Clint immediately seemed to realise that wasn't a good thing because he stood up wordlessly and opened the bay door to the quinjet, walking out as he glanced momentarily back to make sure that Bucky was following him. He was and Clint was wishing the hell that they hadn't come back here in the first place otherwise they'd be closer. He followed the directions that pinged up on his phone and his grey eyes fell on his best friend, she sat upon the ground leaned with her back against a red saab. He held up his hands to show her that he wasn't armed because the moment she heard footsteps get close enough to her she aimed her gun. 

"I'm here to help you, Tasha." Clint spoke carefully as he raised both hands.

She shook her head though.

"I don't need your help." She spat.

He released a sigh and sat down on the ground about four feet away from her, facing her. 

"Yes you do."

Whether she realised it or not, she did.

"You gonna go in there and shoot everyone you see? C'mon, Tasha. You know that ain't the right thing to do." 

She remained adamant though, he could tell. He could see it in her eyes and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Then I guess I'm coming in with you. Who're we taking out?"

He piped up and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Bucky step forward.

"Give us a minute?" 

Natasha's eyes moved immediately to Bucky and Clint nodded his head, standing up and dusting himself off before he walked up the road to see exactly where the hell she was trying to break into.

"Nat, you have to listen to me: I know you hate him. I know you've hated him since you saw that file but you have to listen to me, he isn't worth losing yourself over. He was wrong. He was wrong about both of us; we're not property. We matter. Our lives matter. He didn't hurt me and he didn't hurt you, what he did was despicable and he'll pay for it but it doesn't have to be you." He shook his head gently.

Approaching her, he crouched down.

"You don't know what it reminded me of when he made us stand there and listen. When he made me pull that trigger, James. You don't know how it made me feel to spend all goddamn week being reminded that he could do whatever he wanted and I couldn't do a damn thing to fight back or how the hell I felt watching him put that gun to your head every fucking time he wanted to remind us that we were his until he decided we weren't needed anymore."

"Then tell me. Talk to me. Get it outta your head before it breaks you clean in two. This isn't the way to do this. Talk to me."

He knew that she was balancing albeit barely. One tip one way or the other could make the biggest difference especially now.

"He deserves to die. Anatoli and Vasili deserved to die."

Bucky had no doubt that she was right; he didn't think for even a second that she'd gone about it in a healthy way but he had no doubt that those men had met a much deserved end. Natasha wouldn't just lose it at anything, those men must have made her do terrible things to get a reaction out of her that'd make her murder them years later. No, he didn't doubt for even a second that they deserved it but she didn't deserve to give herself more she could punish herself for.

"They tried to turn you into something less than human, don't let them. We're free. We can choose. Choose now. Choose different."

"I will when the last two are dead." She stood up.

Looking down at him, she shook her head.

"I don't wanna hurt either one of you but I _have _to do this. He has to pay for what he did. Both of them do."

He wished the hell that she'd see it but right now, she was leaning far more toward the more destructive parts of her psyche and he was struggling almost as much as she was to find a way to fix all of this. 

"Then like Barton said: We go in with you. We're not leaving you to do this alone so you either risk all of our asses or you listen to me and walk away now."

"Don't. Don't do that to me."

"Huh? Do what? Who did what?" Clint made his way back toward them.

"I count seven on the perimeter. Two on the balcony and it looks like they've got semi automatics, we can probably avoid the hail of bullets if we reach the cover of the wall quick enough but I guess we'll see. That's if we can take out all seven on the ground without drawing too much attention anyway. Separate them and do it is probably our best bet so if you've got a plan, nows the time Tasha."

"You aren't doing this."

"The hell I'm not! You go in there I'm comin' with. So, what's the plan here? 'Cause, I ain't leaving you to go in there and die and you ain't gonna knock me out again so, it looks like you've got two choices: Stand the hell down or I'm shooting up this shit hole with you."

Bucky couldn't help but laugh as Clint spoke. He was stubborn as hell, he could see why he and Natasha got along to well. 

"I mean, my wifes gonna be hella pissed when I get home - _if _I get home - but eh! You're not doing this alone. Strike team Delta, remember? I got your back and you got mine. You go, I go."

Clint reached over his shoulder for his bow.

Natasha stood deadpanning him with her arms folded across her chest. She looked like she was about to punch him or break down.

"Aw, alright. You got me." Clint placed the bow back.

Evidently, he saw something in that moment that no one else had because his face softened and he nodded his head at her.

He released a slow sigh as he motioned for Bucky to step forward.

"She needs you, man."

Walking over to her, Bucky wrapped her in his arms and just held her even as she lowered herself to the ground, he moved with her and her arms held to him tightly like her life depended on it, and if she went the hell ahead with this keeping her here now was probably the only shot that they had at saving her life.

"I've got you." He whispered.

"He made me face the fact that I meant nothing; he made me face the fact that neither of us meant a damn thing if they decided we didn't. He made me realise that we were just property and I watched him every day find a new way to show us how worthless we were. He made us bury the people he murdered and every goddamn night I heard mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters pace the streets handing out flyers with faces on that _I knew _were never going to come home. It's the first time in years that I'd ever hated myself. I couldn't stop him from doing anything. Not to you, not to me and not to them."

She spoke, trying to keep herself together. She was starting to break down, he could feel the way her body shook.

"I had to stand by and let him do everything because we weren't ever supposed to care. The cocktail wore off quicker this time and I don't know why. The pain was excruciating and all I could do was watch him and the more I felt like me, the more I wanted to shoot him but I couldn't. He held that gun to me four times. Each goddamn time he had me pinned to the wall with his arm across my throat and he told me that no matter what he did, I was his property and there was nothing I could do."

Bucky grew more and more angry the more she spoke and he could understand it now, he could understand what had broken inside of her because of what this son of a bitch had done and she was right: He did deserve to die, but like he said it didn't have to be her. He placed a kiss against the top of her head as he released a sigh.

"He doesn't deserve any more of you. He doesn't deserve to take away what you've fought for all these years, Nat. I get it. I get what he did to you and I get how that screwed you up inside but he's not worth losing you. You asked me to hold onto you so, hold onto me. If you want this guy dead I'll go right in there now and I'll put a bullet in his head for you. I don't give a damn about his security team, give me the word and I'll go and end him right here and right now, but it won't be you. It _can't _be you. I won't let you lose yourself like that."

She knew he meant it, too. She shook her head though. She buried her head in his chest and she shook her head as she fought like hell to keep her breathing steady.

"I could've got a clean shot without going in there."

"And lost yourself in the process; you're not that person anymore Natasha."

Natasha. She let out a small laugh to mask the sob that threatened to break her lips; it wasn't the first time he'd called her that but it was the first time that it had really jolted anything inside of her. Natasha. She wasn't that girl anymore, he was right and she knew he was right even if she resented him for it; she should have known that if they found her they wouldn't let her do this, especially not on her own.

"I'm slipping. I can feel it. I want to go in there so badly and end that bastard and I hate myself because of what all of them made me do and it's taking all that I am to fight and stay here with you, it's taking all that I am not to get up and walk in there and just-- I want him dead so badly."

She couldn't think straight. The other voice screaming in her head was so loud it felt like it was deafening.

"If you can't fight, I'll fight _for _you. We both will, Nat. We _all_ will. Me, Barton, Steve, Bobbi, Tony, Wanda, all of us. You have so many people that love you and want you to come home so come home. Don't go back. Don't be what they made you. You and I both know the more you fall down this hole the harder it'll be to come back from."

She knew he was right.

"I love you. I hate you but I love you."

She pulled back slightly as she heard footsteps and she looked up at Clint. She moved to sit down on the asphalt sidewalk and she looked up at her best friend.

"He's right y'know. I've hauled my ass halfway around the world for you in the last few days and everyone else has been researching everything they could get their hands on to try to bring you back. I told you years ago it wasn't just your fight anymore; you told me that you'd never known who you really were and I told you I'd help you find that. I helped you find who you were so you'd bet I'm gonna fight so you can keep that. Your boy is a pain in the ass, but he's right. We have your back. All of us. Your fight is our fight."

And as odd as it looked, three heavily armed people in the middle of a street none of he nor Bucky moved, both of them were determined to do whatever it took to make sure that Natasha didn't lose herself because they both knew what'd happen if they didn't.

"I won't let you lose yourself to these guys again, not without a fight. I promised I'd protect you and I won't have you make me into a liar, Romanov."

"Even when I had nothing else, I had you."

It was the same thing she'd said to him after New York when he was recovering and she was trying to help him remember who he was and convince him that what he'd been turned into wasn't his fault at all. 

_Do you know what it's like to be unmade?_

_You know that I do._

He reached down a hand to help her stand up.

"They can't unmake you again if you don't let them, Tasha."

He was right, she knew he was right but all of this was getting harder and harder the longer she stayed here.

"I need to go before I change my mind." She stated as she took his hand and stood up.

Bucky followed suit, giving Clint a thankful smile as he did so; it seemed as though they really _did _need to work together.

"Let's get you home."

He knew this wasn't the end of it, but at least back home they could deal with her losing it better than they could out here where she was a wildcard determined to leave a trail of bodies in her wake.

At least that was his theory...


	9. Those four walls now are home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha gets back to the compound and, worried that she's going to be isolated and rejected for everything she's done she seems determined to keep a distance until a craving for food and a crowded room reminds her exactly why she loves these people to begin with.
> 
> [this chapter legit is just pure fluff lmao]

The ride home was _awkward _to say the very least.

Natasha spent most of it curled up and withdrawn into herself; Bucky made sure that she was completely unarmed and there was nothing within reach that she could use as a potential weapon which made Clint all kinds of uncomfortable until Bucky reminded him of what Nat had told him years ago: They weren't permitted weapons unless a handler gave them one and they were conditioned to trust their handlers with their lives, so with the current programming active in Natasha's head the association would probably mean she was less likely to try to shoot anyone if she happened to fall back into the worst sides of it.

Clint of course understood it but it made him hate the sons of bitches even more than he already had and he hadn't thought that was possible; he remembered when he'd first brought Natasha in, even in her weapons training she wouldn't take a gun unless he handed it to her and she'd explained the whole damn thing to him then but he hadn't figured that the same would apply now.

In truth, he just hated the thought of her associating either one of them - mainly him - with a handler like she had back there. He was her best friend. He didn't want her to see him like that.

Every so often, both of them turned to look at her but she hadn't moved a muscle in a good 2 hours. If they were going to be honest with themselves, both men were more worried than they knew how to explain but both seemed to fear that by saying anything to her she'd react badly to it but at the same time Clint was worried that she was feeling worse _because _no one was saying anything to her and so, he was the one to break the silence.

"Hey, Tasha? How are you doing?"

It was the first time he'd seen her move. She glanced up at him and offered him the smallest hint of a smile.

"I feel sick."

She paused then.

"And I have a headache."

Neither of them had done anything to check her for injuries themselves because both of them had agreed they'd wait until they got back and she went to the infirmary to be checked over, but the mention of a headache seemed to worry Bucky because he made his way over to sit beside her and studied her cautiously. 

"Are you okay? I mean really?" 

Turning to look at him, Natasha shook her head. She looked utterly exhausted and she had bruising down her cheek that he'd hoped was superficial and neither he nor Clint knew if there was anything else; she hadn't exactly been open about anything that had happened or anything she'd done yet.

He hoped she would of course, but this was Natasha; she'd only open up when she wanted to and she'd always been the same. She was so strong and so stubborn and it was one of the many things he loved about her but right now he wished that she'd trust him enough to sit and talk to him about what had happened; he didn't want to admit it to himself or anyone else but he was afraid that she'd shut him out.

She slapped his hand away as he went to brush her cheek.

"I'm exhausted and I feel like there's a wrecking crew in my head." 

And she remained withdrawn into herself regardless; Bucky moved despite the hurt look on his face. She seemed to notice though because she sighed and shook her head.

It wasn't that she was shutting either one of them out despite the realisation of what she'd done hitting her like a freight train, it was that she was trying to figure out which side of her was going to remain dominant because she found herself trying to work out if she could get out of this damn quinjet unarmed without taking either of them on so it seemed more than a little touch and go as far as her mental state went.

She didn't have time to work it out anyway because they landed back at the Avengers compound before she'd had the chance to formulate a solid thought on the matter.

She glanced sideways as the bay doors opened and she watched Clint as he unbuckled himself and stood up, she shook her head as he walked over and held his hand out to her. 

"You can go inside, Tasha. No one in there is angry at you."

He could tell she didn't believe that for even a second.

"C'mon, you have us. We're here. We got you." 

She appreciated his insistence but looking back at the facility she felt all the more certain that she no longer belonged here, she felt like a monster among civilised people and she hated herself for everything that she'd done.

She remained fixed to the spot and she refused outright to move, she listened to Clint tell her three or four times that she could go inside and that it was still - and always would be - her home. She belonged here and she'd earned her place among them all a dozen times over. Of course she appreciated the sentiment, why wouldn't she? 

She might appreciate the sentiment but that didn't mean that she believed him. Clint, well Clint was good to her and he always had been but she couldn't bring herself to let him risk his career trying to save her yet again.

"If I go in there and I lose it again and I hurt someone, I'll never forgive myself. I've already done enough bad shit, Clint. I threw you into a wall and I bust Tony's nose, that was bad enough but... How the hell do I face them when I murdered two people and I can't promise that I won't lose myself again to any of this? It's still there. It's still buried in my mind, whatever the hell broke inside of me is _still _broken. It hasn't healed."

He could see it was tearing her apart and the pain in her voice was clear.

"What happened to me hasn't gone away. I can feel it there and it's still eating away at me and I don't know how to fix this. I d_on't know _if it's going to just get better." 

She hadn't doubted herself this much in a long time. She may very well doubt herself though but he didn't, not even for a second. Sitting down beside her he momentarily glanced at Bucky before he looked back at Natasha again.

"I don't care, broken or not you're still you. Whatever is going on in your head, I'll be there until its fixed to hold you together just like last time. I'll be your strength even if you can't be your own anymore because that's what best friends do. It's what you did for me when shit got real hard for me and it's what I've done for you since you first came in. I promised you no matter what I'd never turn my back on you. I never once said that had conditions."

He reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You did what you thought you needed to do to get better. You did what you thought you needed to start to heal from whatever it was they made you do and I _promise _you, we'll get the other two. All of us. Somehow, some way we'll make sure that they pay for what they've done, too. It won't be messy and no one will die if we can help it but I swear to you we'll get them."

She could see the sincerity in his eyes, she could see the same determination to save her even from herself that he'd had all those years ago. It reminded her of when she'd been far younger, far more reckless and far more dangerous than she was now and yet Clint Barton had treat her like she was no different to any other person in the world.

He certainly didn't treat her like she was one of the world's deadliest assassins.

"You and me against the world, right?" Natasha spoke softly; it was barely above a whisper.

Her green eyes flicked to him and a small smile made its way onto her features.

"You and me against the world, kid."

He bumped her shoulder and she laughed.

"I'm way older than you are." She responded, rolling her eyes.

He didn't seem to care though, he looked at her with a grin.

"Alright, well Mr. Romanov has apparently gone inside to leave us to talk which was really nice of him but, we need to get you inside and to the infirmary. You need to get checked out, okay? I know, I know you feel shitty and like hell right now but I'll stay with you if that's what you want."

She felt a little guilty that she hadn't noticed Bucky leave; she knew how much he was doubting she needed him at all but there was a big difference between the ways she needed him and the ways she needed Clint, Clint had been the one to pull her out of this last time while Bucky, he reminded her that if you loved someone enough regardless of the odds stacked against you, you could save them from anything and you could always, always find your way back to one another.

It was a terrible cliche and she hated that kind of crap any other time, but she hadn't realised just how much she'd needed that or how much she needed them to find their way back to one another.

She'd missed every goddamn thing that came along with just being there day to day with the person you love because while every chance they'd had before was fleeting, now they had a real shot at it this time and one that no-one could tear apart.

"You know I hate the infirmary." She shot him a glare.

He laughed.

He knew all too well how much she hated it; it was why the two of them had sort of taken to patching each other up but this time around he wanted her to get checked over properly.

He knew too that she'd been a psych eval at some point this week and he knew that she'd hate that, too. She'd hated the ones she'd had to have when she'd first joined SHIELD but they'd all need to know where she was mentally. They'd need to know exactly how they could help her and she'd need to know that someone would need to talk to her. Someone would need to get her to open up.

He had no goddamn idea who that'd wind up being because so far, every question he and Bucky had asked her was met with nothing but silence. He wasn't sure who the hell she wanted to talk to but it wasn't either one of them; she might talk to Bucky in private for all he knew but so far, she'd shut down every time they'd tried to get anything out of her about what'd happened out there but she'd open up eventually.

Or he hoped she would, anyway.

\--------------------

Sat under the glaring lights of the infirmary, Natasha glanced down at the gown covering her slender form and she pushed her tongue against the inside of her cheek.

She'd had blood tests, she'd had a six inch cut from a knife down her back that she hadn't even realised she had because the adrenaline she'd been running on for days had forbade her from feeling it, she'd been given medication for the pain that she'd handed back immediately informing them that they needed to remember now that she _didn't _have to pretend anymore that it wouldn't work on her at all.

Bruising across her cheek, ribs and thigh were probably about the only things that were actually bothering her.

She'd had a whole hell of a lot worse over the years, but she supposed it was to be expected that she wouldn't come out of this unscathed.

She wished the hell that she had though because now she had physical reminders, too. Still, days would heal that and soon they'd be gone too but she still had to find a way to live with what she'd done and she still had to face the evaluations that she'd have to have. No one official had gotten involved but, Bobbi and Steve had both told her that she needed to talk to someone just like Clint did. Just like Bucky did.

She hopped off of the examination couch and dressed herself carefully, trying not to pull the already sore muscles; she needed a shower or a nice hot bubble bath badly and food.

Not to mention at least a weeks worth of sleep but she doubted that she'd be sleeping peacefully again anytime soon regardless of whether or not he was there with her.

She walked out and made her way toward the dining area, tempted to just skip out completely and just go back to her floor and hide the hell away from it all but she couldn't avoid everyone forever and she was _starving_. It had been days since she'd eaten absolutely anything.

It had been days since she'd slept too and she was pretty sure that showed.

"Natasha!"

Wanda announced brightly as she stepped off of the elevator. She ran over almost immediately and launched herself at the redhead and hugged her. She seemed overly enthused and Natasha found herself wondering if someone had let her have one too many cups of coffee while Clint was out.

Clint was usually the one playing guardian with Wanda. Natasha wasn't usually the type that liked anyone hugging her like that, but she found her welcoming and warm nature comforting. Wanda had a good heart.

"Missed you too, kid."

Wanda offered Natasha a bright smile as she stepped back and Steve took her place, yet another warm embrace took a hold of her and she released a sigh that felt almost like she was letting go of her tensions too.

"Hey Nat, welcome home."

Steve seemed just as kind as he always had and in truth, that baffled her. She knew he had to know what she'd done during her absence and yet, he stood there like it meant absolutely nothing at all and that was both comforting and confusing to her; she almost wanted him to be angry at her for what she'd done because it'd make a whole hell of a lot more sense than him accepting her demons so readily or maybe she just wanted someone to be as angry at her as she was at herself.

She couldn't tell anymore. 

To her, there still seemed to be some kind of awkward tension in the air that she couldn't quite find her way through or maybe it was simply the fact that she felt so on edge that even around people she knew and should trust, she felt like she no longer belonged. What she'd done out there had been bad, worse than probably any of them - bar James - knew she was capable of. She wondered if they even knew the real extent of what she'd done and if they'd still be sitting here so ready to accept her presence if they knew. She didn't have it in her to ask.

Instead, Natasha offered Steve a thankful smile and stepped back, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans as she released a sigh and looked around the room; she noted Tony keeping a distance but the anxious, worried look on Peppers face made her feel bad. She knew her well enough by now to know that she'd be feeling just as responsible as Tony did for all of this but she shouldn't. Neither of them should, what had happened was nothing short of a freak accident.

An incident that none of them could have possibly predicted.

Pepper hesitated for a few moments before she stood up and padded over, studying Natasha with worried eyes before she released a soft sigh and shook her head. She started to say something at least three times before she actually managed to get any words out.

"I'm so sorry, Natasha. I-- We both are."

She'd always liked Pepper, she was always kind hearted despite her somewhat argumentative stubbornness when it came to Tony; she could always keep him in line which was something Natasha found interesting. Tony had always struck her as the kind of person that'd do whatever he wanted but when it came to Pepper, he seemed softer and far less arrogant. His arrogance had been one of the main reasons Natasha hadn't liked him to begin with. She offered her a smile.

"I don't want you to be sorry. It isn't your fault, it isn't really even his I just-- I think sometimes, we just lose ourselves."

Typical Natasha, burying everything that had an impact on her; she knew it was true though, Tony hadn't known what he was doing when he'd asked her about it and he'd been responding in an anger that would have been entirely justified had he understood just what it was that they were and how deeply set this programming of theirs was or even how easily it was triggered. Hopefully he would now, she could at the very least hope that what had happened to her recently would make him understand all of this more.

"Please, if there is _anything _at all you need? I mean it, anything? We're here. All of us."

And with that, Pepper placed a hand gently against Natasha's arm before she meandered back over to Tony and she heard him gently thank his fiancee for her help.

Everyone sat scattered in the oversized chairs she spent quite a lot of time in when they had down time and she looked around; it sort of doubled as a hang out area for the most part too when no one wanted to go upstairs and hang out by the bar. She turned to watch her friends and a soft smile touched her features. Wanda - curled up on her own with her legs crossed - was chatting quite happily with Clint about how she was doing controlling her magic, Steve sat with what she assumed was todays newspaper and she couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. Sometimes he really did act like an old man.

Bobbi sat on the arm of Clint's chair with her legs draped over his lap and Bucky sat momentarily alone in the chair next to Steve's until he held out his hand to her and she made her way over and curled up in his lap.

"Does anyone remember last Christmas?" Bobbi piped up.

"You mean when your husband had way too much to drink and tried to shoot the inflatable Santa?" 

Pepper looked over at Bobbi and chuckled. Bobbi looked back at Clint over her shoulder and smirked.

"I think we should do the secret Santa thing again." Clint shrugged.

"Uh, no!" Natasha spoke immediately.

"Oh god! I forgot about that." Clint let out a loud laugh.

Bucky looked utterly confused and Natasha fought back laughter.

"Thor was my secret Santa and he bought me a _utility _belt." She airquoted.

Connecting it immediately, Bucky let out a burst of laughter as he tried to imagine Natasha's face as she opened her 'gift' and he found it nearly impossible not to find the image absolutely hilarious.

"Seriously?"

"Oh, she is. It was hilarious." This time it was Tony that spoke.

"See! We should do it again. It's funny." Now Clint had stopped laughing, he spoke.

"Can we have rules please?"

Pepper elbowed Tony in the ribs and he shook his head mouthing _No _behind her back when he thought she wasn't looking.

"Yes." Natasha agreed, nodding her head.

"Rules, please! I do not need that again."

"I liked it."

Wanda smiled as she waved away the red sparks that danced from her hands. She was a good kid and she'd told them it was the first time in years that she'd had anything that even _felt _like a family Christmas and the first time in years that she'd wanted to actually be somewhere. To this day Natasha could appreciate that because these people were the first semblance she'd had of home, too.

And sitting here talking to them like this, she remembered that.

"I liked my gift." Steve smiled over the top of his newspaper.

"The book was interesting." 

That had been Bobbi. Bobbi, Pepper, Steve and Natasha had been the only one to get serious gifts, everyone else had screwed around with it; even Wanda had gotten Bobbi a prank gift though it turned out she'd actually really loved it, she'd bought her a bear that practically screamed Christmas music at you every time you walked past it and Bobbi had used it to scare the crap out of everyone for three days afterward until the batteries died.

"Well, I _loved _my Sephora gift card. I had _no _idea they could match your makeup to your skin tone. It was a mind blowing day, really. I was stunned." 

And everyone laughed as Tony spoke. 

"I told you it was for your wrinkles." Clint replied with a grin.

"So, we're doing it again this year?"

Pepper studied everyone as she spoke, at least after they all managed to stop laughing.

Natasha playfully rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Fine, I'm in." 

Pepper clapped her hands triumphantly. 

"That includes you, Mr. Barnes."

She glanced at him with playfully narrowed eyes.

"If you're sticking around, you join in."

"Yeah, yeah I'm good with that."

Bucky spoke carefully before he briefly glanced at Tony to gauge his reaction, Tony let out a small breath of a laugh and nodded his head slowly and both Natasha and Bucky - each unknown to the other - found themselves hoping that maybe the last few days really had made a difference and that Tony could finally come to terms with the fact that Bucky wasn't the monster he thought him to be. It'd comfort Natasha to think that was possible. 

"Peter coming?" Steve spoke.

Tony turned to look at him and smirked.

"I'll tell him _not _to steal your shield this time."

"That's not funny."

Steve replied, rolling his eyes; it was evident he'd been trying to come up with some quip but it had gotten lost before he'd managed to say it. Wanda reached over to pat him on the hand anyway.

"You got your ass kicked by a sixteen year old, that's pretty funny."

Tony replied, clearly amused by Steve's response.

"Language!" Steve and Natasha spoke together.

She turned to look at him and smiled, Steve chuckled. She found herself relaxing even though she was still struggling. As she glanced around at the friends that had become family to her over the years, she remembered exactly why it was that she loved them: Regardless of what happened over the last year here they sat side by side talking, laughing and planning this years Holiday celebrations. That was what real family did, they loved you through your best and your worst and they always, always forgave you. They saw who you were and how important you were to them even in the very worst of times. 

They always came back together even in the worst of times because ultimately, ultimately they remembered that the differences didn't matter when the strengths you had when you stuck together outweighed everything.


	10. I'm under the gun again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony formulates a plan to finish the last mission Natasha was on before they brought her home again in an effort to fix the damage he's caused but Natasha has a fragile mental state and she isn't holding everything together as well as she might want people to think.

She was right, she hadn't slept more than 30 minutes all night because she'd been afraid of what she'd see if she did close her eyes; she hadn't spent all night in her rooms either, far from it. Natasha had spent a good most of it in the gym trying to work out her frustrations in what - she supposed - was some vain attempt to tire herself out so much that she'd sleep out of sheer exhaustion.

She needed it, visibly she needed it. The bags under her eyes and the sluggish movements of her body said that she needed it but her mind just wouldn't give in. Her mind just wouldn't shut off no matter what she did or how much she tried to physically drive herself into exhaustion.

Instead, morning rolled around and about the only thing that she'd accomplished was that she'd managed to shower and she'd gotten about halfway through the documentary series she'd been watching on Netflix; Bucky had been at first insistent on trying to stay awake with her but she'd told him she'd feel far worse if he did that.

There was no sense in them both feeling like this and she could tell that after last night, he actually felt at some sense of peace and she didn't want to take that away from him. She'd promised that she'd do an hour in the gym and then come to bed herself.

She'd lied.

She felt bad for it of course, but what was the sense in laying there restlessly chancing waking someone else up when she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep? There was no good in them both suffering through this and while it was true that she absolutely did _not _need any more time alone to her thoughts than she'd already had, she'd found herself quite glad for the quiet stillness of the night, she'd found herself quite glad for the familiarity of home though she'd been tempted to go back to her apartment around 3 or 4 in the morning, she knew that everyone would panic too much and she'd put them through enough.

She planned to go back at some point today though just to reassure herself that she did still have that one little safe place she could turn to if she needed it, and she knew that her neighbor worried about her if she hadn't seen her in a long time; the old lady had sort of adopted Natasha as a rebellious grandchild regardless of the fact that Natasha hadn't wanted it at all.

She was nice though, she baked her cookies, cakes and made her food when she came home looking altogether worse for the wear and she didn't ask questions which was nice and she unquestionably fed the cat when Natasha was away for any extended period of time.

She was a nice lady. She'd never been a people person but the old woman was stubborn and after a while, she'd stopped trying to convince her that she didn't need to worry about her or anything else because it did no good. She supposed that perhaps she was just lonely, she didn't seem to have any family visiting her so perhaps very much like Natasha herself, she was very much alone in the world. Natasha was older than the woman herself was, but that wasn't something she could ever tell her.

Instead, she listened to her stories and it was interesting to see how the events she'd seen unfold played out in someone else's perspective. She found herself actually enjoying the company, not that she'd admit it to anyone. She wouldn't risk putting the woman in danger and though she was well aware of the fact that she could have painted a target on her own back again, she remained determined not to have that mark transferred to anyone else.

She heard him stir from the bedroom and she turned so that she could see over the back of the couch, momentarily considering whether or not she should just remain here and not move before she decided against it and padded toward the bedroom, sitting down next to him as she ran her hand gently down his cheek as he roused from his sleep.

"Morning Handsome." Natasha spoke gently as she studied him.

"Mm, hey. You didn't come to bed..." He sounded sleepy and yet sad somehow, too.

"I couldn't sleep and I didn't wanna keep you awake, too."

"I wouldn't have minded, you know." 

She did know. She leaned down and placed a kiss against his forehead before smiling and nodding.

"Yeah well, you haven't slept well at all since before you were brought here so, you needed it more than I needed babysitting."

"It isn't babysitting. I don't want you to feel alone." He sat up.

Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips before he wrapped his arms around her and moved her so that his legs were on either side of her and her back was resting against his chest. If he had a choice, he'd keep her like this for as long as he could. He knew that they had to go about whatever the hell happened next sooner or later, but if he could put that off he'd do it in a heartbeat because this felt like yet another of those times he was going to have to worry a whole hell of a lot about what was going to happen to her. It wasn't that he didn't trust these people because now, now that they'd proved he could he did and he knew that they loved her but he knew what living with this evil was in a way none of them could understand.

He knew right about now how she'd be seeing herself just like he knew that she'd have spent all night trying to do absolutely _anything _ she could think of to keep her mind busy so that she didn't slip back again. He knew that she'd have spent the whole night trying to remember what it was she was holding on for and he hated the thought that she'd done that alone but she was here. She was still here and that showed a whole hell of a lot for the strength that she had. He'd always known that she was strong though.

"So, what now?" She breathed out a sigh as she spoke.

She could hear the way that the previously steady beating of his heart sped up as she spoke and she could tell that the question had thrown him off balance. _What now? _Those two words seemed so simple and yet they both knew that they could change absolutely everything. She knew a decision had to be made one way or the other regarding what would happen to her or how they'd deal with what was going on with her and so far, no one had talked to her about any of it so for all she knew, he was aware of where exactly it was she was supposed to go from here in everyone else's eyes even if he hadn't said it yet.

"You have to have an evaluation with someone, but I don't know who or when. I think--" He was interrupted.

Her phone buzzed against her thigh and she picked it up and pressed 'answer' on the video call. 

"Ugh, please do not tell me I just caught something awkward here..." Tony spoke as he studied the two of them.

Natasha rolled her eyes and looked like she wished she could reach through the phone and punch him. Tony grinned at her anyway which seemed to annoy her all the more but he didn't seem to mind at all.

"Okay so, Barton thinks he knows what your boy did to piss you off and we've done a little research into it, or you know... A lot. It was actually a pretty good way to waste the night. Lots of coffee..."

"Tony, point?" Natasha interrupted his tangent.

"Right. We've got maps of his compound, layout of his security and a little background info on the wife, information on any local interference we might run into and we've spoken to Maria - well, Bobbi and Clint did - and SHIELD have agreed to cover the op as sanctioned by them providing we can give the DA enough to prosecute when we haul his drug dealing scumbag ass back stateside. Turns out, not everyone he used was a Cuban national and he's facing trouble in American courts too for far more than drug smuggling. Summed up version, we've got a way to take down one asshole without it blowing back on you in a bad way." Tony sounded rather happy with himself.

Natasha however was stunned. She had no goddamn idea why he'd go to that much effort to help her, or why any of them would risk being up all night to look into a way to bring down the people that she'd put onto her own private kill list but she found herself appreciating it. None of them had to do this. None of them had to do anything to help her after everything that they'd already done and-- She became almost immediately alarmed.

"Wait, SHIELD is involved?"

"Yeah, no. They don't know what happened with you. We told them we'd gotten some intel from a satellite surveillance op we were running looking for remaining rogue HYDRA cells. It was actually all pretty simple."

The fact that they'd lied to SHIELD for her made her smile. She appreciated it; she knew that Tony had never been one to play by their rules but she knew too that after the debacle with the accords, she'd thought he may be a little more hesitant about going against against another government backed agency. Bucky gave Natasha's arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Alright well, you two get dressed and meet us downstairs when you're good and we'll talk through a plan." And with that, Tony hung up.

Natasha moved so that she sat facing him, and Bucky studied her with worried blue eyes. He seemed to painstakingly study every inch of her face, trying to discern every microexpression and trying to figure out whether she was in fact trying to say something without saying it at all and she appreciated the amount of effort he was putting in to trying to figure out whether or not she was okay because she leaned forward and kissed him.

"We don't _have _to do this. _You _don't have to do this. It's okay if you don't want to. I know they've tried really hard to fix this and that's great. They love you and that's great but if you don't feel like you can do this, you don't have to." 

"No, I need to. I need to see this through in a way that's far more healthy than the way I was handling it. I can feel the pull in here."

She tapped her head.

"I can feel the pull toward just doing it the way I'd planned because I still think he deserves to die for what he did to both of us, but I can't. I can't do it because I can't lose myself in the process. Clint was right. You were right. I have too much to hold onto. I need to finish this, but I need to finish this in a way that's not going to destroy every damn thing I've fought hard to build up over the last fifteen years. I need to end this. I need to end this for my own sake but I won't let it ruin me so this is the best way."

Did she want to drag her friends into this? Absolutely not. Did she want them covering for her and going out on a limb to end some destructive road of pain inside of her that she wasn't sure how to get off of? No. No, she didn't but she knew these people well enough to know that there was no way that they were going to continue to let her suffer with this alone; they'd fought side by side and they'd always swore if one of them needed it, the others would be there and it was a promise everyone seemed intent on keeping and now, though she hated herself for the thought of dragging them into all of this she appreciated that promise and she appreciated the fact that even after what she'd done, no one was willing to write her off and no one was willing to let her suffer alone.

No one was willing to let her face the demons that threatened to eat her alive and let them win and that, that was probably the first time in a long time that Natasha realised that this didn't have to be a descent into hell. She knew how much Tony was trying to make up for what he'd done and while she knew that he'd do it in his own subtle Tony-like ways (rather than being outright apologetic) he wouldn't stop until he'd found a way to make it right and she knew that was exactly why he was doing this. 

"Alright, then lets end this the right way."

Shifting, Bucky reached around for his shirt somewhat blindly until Natasha held it out to him.

"Dammit woman, you're supposed to take that _off _not help me put it back on."

He grinned at her as he spoke and he could see her trying not to laugh, poking her gently in the ribs to get her to give up and just let it out; she'd been in a dark place for a few days, remembering a little light would do her some good; he had no way of knowing if doing this whole thing in a far more (sort of) legal avenue was going to lessen the pain she felt about it all but he hoped it would. It beat the hell out of the alternative if the alternative was her losing herself for what she'd done out there while trying to settle with the pains of her past. She still hadn't agreed to talk to anyone yet and maybe doing all of this before she had would turn out to be a bad idea, but he knew Natasha: She'd never agree to being sidelined while anyone finished her battle for her.

That wasn't who she was. She didn't sit by and let anyone fight her battles for her, never in all the years he'd known her had he seen her do that even when her battles were impossible odds; he'd plucked her out of a few of them only to be met with nothing short of shit for it. She didn't like to be rescued.

Natasha Romanova did not need saving, she never did. She might need someone to walk alongside her down whatever path she was on but she didn't need saving from it, she never had and she never would; she was too stubborn for that.

"I'm pretty sure we'd be late for this meeting..." Natasha replied with a soft chuckle.

She hopped up and walked over to the set of drawers to pull out her hoodie, trying to hide the fact that she physically faltered and winced when she'd moved too quickly. She still had to watch the stitches on her back. To his credit, he didn't say anything about it though she knew he'd no doubt noticed it. He'd ask her about it later but he wouldn't make it plainly obvious that he thought she should take it easy. He knew her better than that.

****

"I can do it on my own." 

She sat on the counter peering over Tony's shoulder at a blueprint. She pointed to the left of the house, next to the garage and tapped it. 

"I can cover that, there are no cameras."

She glanced over her shoulder at Clint and Vis, both of whom nodded in approval.

"Uh, what'd we miss?" 

Natasha glanced around at her friends and she couldn't help but smile. Everyone seemed in full mission mode and she found herself wondering how long it had been since they'd all been together like this planning to do something together. There had been so much division lately that it was good to see the cracks healing themselves little by little.

They were still there, people would be foolish to deny that but they were _healing _and it was proof that you could overcome whatever hell you were in if you had enough people there to help you out of it. Your pain didn't have to swallow you whole if you just let the people that stood by your side take your hand.

"We were gonna team Wanda with your beau but, she said she can take it on her own and I agree; I think he'll be better leading the tac team we have to send in when we've cleared the outside of the compound."

Clint turned to look at both of them and smiled.

"If Wanda covers there, no one is gonna even be able to _start _a car much less get off a shot. I'll stick with her anyway but, she can handle it on her own."

That - Natasha noted - didn't stop Clint from worrying about Wanda or how she was going to hold up. Her control over her abilities was still so tentative. She still didn't completely trust herself but yet she was willing to put that aside every damn time they had a mission and that was admirable.

"I'll stay with you." Steve reached out to touch Natasha's shoulder.

She turned to look at him and she gave a small, slow nod.

"And me." Tony clapped his hands as he spoke.

"Alright so, Clint and Wanda take the left, Bucky goes in with the tac team through the center and we take the right; priority goes to arresting and detaining this son of a bitch and getting his wife out of there unharmed. Questions?" He glanced around at everyone.

No-one said anything, not one person raised their hand or looked in any way uncertain. It seemed as though they had a decent plan even before the two of them came down.

"Okay well, go get fueled up. We go at sundown." 

"'Kay but, first can we fix this damn beeping please? Hate these new hearing aids. I think I busted it or something." 

Clint pulled it from his ear and tossed it toward Tony's already open hand. 

"What did you do to it this time?" Tony rolled his eyes.

"Nothin', it's been buzzing like crazy since I hit the floor back--" He glanced sheepishly at Natasha.

He mouthed an apology and she held up her hands. 

"No need." It was minor compared to what they could have said.

She was starting to feel crowded and claustrophobic though. She inclined her head toward the door and smiled before she turned to walk out. Once she got out into the hallway, she shot one hand out to steady herself as she dragged in a few deep breaths. It felt like the walls were closing in around her, her heart hammered so loud she could hear it in her ears and everything sounded like it was under water. She sank slowly toward the floor and her vision started to go black, breathing started to feel more and more impossible, something was crushing her chest.

It sounded like someone was screaming.

It sounded like someone was screaming out so loudly that their cries shook her very bones.

She didn't seem to realise at all that it was her that was screaming until someone sat down beside her and simply stayed there with their hand on her harm, anchoring her to here and now, anchoring her to the world outside of the bubble she was trapped in. Natasha was never the kind of person that would drop to the floor and scream. Never. Her mind was that addled right now with that many thoughts and personalities running rampant that it was hard to remember who she was in amongst all of that.

"You're okay. You're alright."

Steve Rogers sat beside his friend and merely let her scream it all out. He turned momentarily to look at both Bucky and Tony who'd been naturally drawn by the sounds of screaming before he inclined his head to Bucky and stood up slowly.

"Get her upstairs. You have a couple hours before we need to be ready to leave, talk to her. She needs you, man."

******

They hadn't gone upstairs.

Natasha had been insistent on driving over to her apartment simply because she wanted to be somewhere that was _hers_. Not somewhere that she'd created with anyone else but somewhere that she'd found on her own, somewhere that she'd spent years making her own in the way that she liked it and the way that she wanted it and she'd convinced him that it was more what she needed than staying in the compound was. She loved being around the people she cared for, but she needed to know that she still had her own little somewhere she could disappear to if she needed to.

Her building was quant, small and on a quiet street close enough to the subway but far enough from the center of New York to ensure that there'd be minimal damage if someone started a fire fight or something out here; she pushed the key into the door of her apartment and glanced at the note attached to the door as she pushed it open. A soft smile touched her features as she shook her head. It was a note from her neighbor asking her if she was okay because she hadn't been home in just over 2 weeks. Reaching for a pen on the side table where she dumped her keys, she wrote back on the note that she was fine and popped on her cell number before going to post it through her neighbors door.

Bucky watched her curiously.

"My neighbor has adopted me." She shrugged almost like it was the most normal thing ever.

To her though it was, she'd had this for the past 5 years of her life. The old woman had sort of become a fixture in Natasha's life that she couldn't quite imagine life without and she scorned herself for that. Developing relationships with civilians was a bad idea but in her defense, she hadn't had much of a choice in the matter. The old lady had decided that Natasha needed taking care of and she'd taken it upon herself to provide said care. 

"She makes really good muffins, too. Blueberry ones are my--"

"Favorite."

Bucky finished her sentence for her and Natasha nodded her head with a smile. 

"You got me to make you blueberry pancakes for 3 days straight when we were in that cabin in Canada."

That was probably the closest they'd come to having a real shot at living together in a semi-normal situation before Italy. Italy had been different entirely, it was a longer mission and they'd had monitoring on and off but Canada had been so remote that monitoring was nigh on impossible. Italy had been six months, they couldn't be watched the _whole _time and he was glad for that because behind closed doors, they got to be normal.

"And in Italy, too. You had this obsession with the farmers market and every goddamn day you'd come home with more fruit than any sane person could eat in a month." 

"Hey! You _loved _my smoothies." She smiled playfully as she spoke.

"The milkshakes were better. Are they still milkshakes if they're made with fresh fruit and ice cream?"

Natasha mulled over his question and shrugged, she had no idea but she'd loved making them; Italian ice cream was the best and she'd been sure to take any chance she to to enjoy the simple pleasures of a semi-normal life on that mission because she'd known that once they were back again it'd be unlikely that they'd ever get to go on a mission like that again and she was right; the next one she'd gotten over a few weeks on was with Alexei and she was his wife.

She resented them to this day for that. She was glad that he was dead; he'd deserved the bullet that got put into his brain ten times over and she'd shed no tears for him when he'd met his end. She just wished she could have pulled the trigger herself instead of it being Yelena. 

As he walked into the living room of her apartment, he found himself glancing around; it was something simple of course but this was Natasha. He could tell that no matter how much she might have wanted it to be, she couldn't quite trust this place to be home and that saddened him. She deserved to have that sense of security but he knew better than anyone what it was to live a life where you constantly had to look over your shoulder. Still, she had a few personal items dotted around. The fireplace held a few framed photographs and right at the very end, hung from a photo hook was a gold chain.

A small ballerina pendant hung from it and he brushed it with his fingers. 

"I-- I bought this for you." He could remember it, if only barely.

He'd come back from one of his missions and he had no idea why his mind had insisted on him getting it but he'd posted it under her door in a little white envelope on his way to his debrief. He remembered now that he hadn't been sure if she'd even gotten it much less thought that she'd kept it all these years because during their next - and last - mission together she hadn't said a word about it. That day was blurry for him at best, but he'd endured one of the biggest wipes he'd had in years after that. He had to forget whatever it was that they made him do that day. Absolutely had to. There was no choice in the matter. Whatever it was, they wanted to make sure it was gone from his head and that it would _stay _gone.

"You did." She confirmed, nodding her head.

"I still have the note you left, too. I wore it on my mission where I met Clint. I kept the damn note tucked into my boot and the necklace around my neck and lied that I'd gotten it from the woman that'd given me my clothes. I kept it to remind myself that no matter what they made me fight for, I had something of my own too." 

She watched as he turned around and she was leaning against the counter that separated her living room from her kitchen. 

"I never did find out if they found out different because I never went back. I met Clint that night and he took me in to SHIELD. He asked me about it for three weeks straight before I gave up and I told him about us." She wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on the floor.

"I tried to feed him some bullshit so that they'd have nothing on me that they could pull down the line but, he promised me that it wasn't SHIELD that was asking, it was him. He was trying to get to know me better. He wanted me to realise that keeping that? Keeping that proved that I had some humanity all along. He told me monsters couldn't feel love because they weren't capable of feeling anything at all and I was. I was capable of feeling love and I'd proved it by keeping that."

She sighed and shook her head.

"The idiot was so happy about it. He said it proved that he'd been right all along and that there was a person in all of the shit they'd turned me into over the years and he taught me how to connect to that. To the girl that kept that necklace, to the girl that fell in love and let it be a foundation to build something from. He said I needed to connect to something real from who I was or I'd never be able to be anything real with who I wanted to become. He said it had to be based on some kind of truth."

She hadn't for a second thought that he'd be right until she'd realised that he was all along. She'd never given him the satisfaction of telling him that though. Barton had enough ego problems as it was.

"I don't remember what I wrote." He confessed quietly, allowing his hand to fall away from the pendant.

"In the crystal cup." She pointed to it but didn't move.

His hand moved toward it, pulling out a small scrap of paper.

_Never forget who you really are, my Natalia. My love now and always, James._

He read the words quietly to himself and a smile touched his features.

"I remember how you used to love to dance." 

None of them had been sure if it was her or if it was another implant, another false memory but he found her moving softly to the melodies that seemed to play only in her mind when she thought no one was watching her and he'd always loved that about her. She moved so gracefully for someone so deadly.

"I did, but I never knew if it was real." 

He placed the note back where he'd found it but unhooked the necklace from its resting place and made his way over to her, motioning for her to turn around so he could put it on. As she turned, scooping her hair out of the way his knuckles gently brushed against her soft skin as he fixed the clasp and allowed it to fall gently into place.

"I think it was real." he replied as she turned to look at him.

"Just like we were real even when they tried to take that away." 

He wasn't going to push her, he wasn't going to ask her absolutely anything that had happened and he wasn't going to mention a single thing that had happened to her over the last few days because she didn't need that. Not now. Now, she needed to remember what Barton had told her all those years ago: Connect to something inside of you that's real. 

Connect to something inside of you that's real.

It was so simple and yet so brilliant.

"You get to decide who you are now, not them or anyone else. You. You get to decide who you've become."

No one had control over her anymore. No one had control over either of them anymore. They were free to be whoever - and whatever - they wanted to be. 

"When this is all over? Let's go away. Just you and me. We'll go back to Canada, somewhere near a lake this time. We'll go to a little cabin and we'll just stay there for a while. We've never had a vacation, we've never had the chance to just _be _normal until now. When all this is over, let's be normal. Let's take the chance we have to just _be_ for once in our lives." God knows he needed it.

He knew that she did, too.

"I'd like that." she responded gently.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her toward him and kissed her on the top of the head.

"When all of this is over, I promise you we'll get the hell away for a little while and we'll figure out where we go next."

She knew exactly what he meant: They were going to have to face both of their demons, but before they did that they had to find who they were together when both of them seemed to have lost all concept of who they were in themselves.

"We'll find ourselves and we'll find each other." She promised.

If that was the only thing she had to hold onto right now, she'd take it.


	11. She finds it hard to trust someone

Things got loud _fast_ and she found herself standing in the midst of chaos feeling like it was the safest place in the world; she knew how strange that'd sound to everyone around her bar Clint because he felt the same as she did, she could see it in his eyes before he'd ran off again. They had tactical support and she hadn't seen absolutely anyone but Steve for the past 5 minutes but that didn't matter. 

She lifted her arm, firing two rounds into the leg of a guard that had a gun pointed toward her; she'd promised Tony that she'd incapacitate only and not kill and while it was hard as hell to keep to that promise but she understood why it was important. This wasn't about ending as many of these sons of bitches as she could - and she could easily - this was about righting a wrong that she'd almost gone about in the wrong way entirely. She felt a hand on her arm and she was pulled to the side behind a small alcove in the wall as someone started wildly firing shots.

"Careful." Steve warned, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Natasha couldn't help but laugh as she shook her head at him; she'd maintained for so long now that she never needed rescuing that he found it almost amusing that he'd just had to do exactly that. She was too stubborn to admit that he might have just pulled her ass out of the proverbial fire though. This was Natasha. She didn't admit weakness in any sense of the word. She believed so thoroughly that she could handle everything on her own that it had almost gotten her killed dozens of times in the time he'd known her alone. 

Leaning around him, she fired off three more shots emptying her clip at the asshat that was firing at them. He went down with three body shots; she hadn't been able to avoid that one though. 

"Two down." she remarked as she reached into her boot for a spare clip.

He had always found it interesting that she'd found the fight so comfortable; Steve was a soldier but Natasha, she was something else entirely. The former assassin had fought hard to redeem herself but there was still a part of her that seemed to miss the chaos that she'd been surrounded by back when she was a field agent during her early SHIELD days. Sometimes, he'd ask her about the stories and she'd always dismiss it with some snarky comment.

The closest he'd come to getting her to tell him anything was when she thought Fury was dead until more recently and even then he had a feeling there was more to it than she'd ever tell him because as she'd said: She was a spy. She lied for a living. 

And SHIELD being HYDRA had gotten to her more than she wanted to let on and he'd seen that, too. She'd told him that she thought she at least knew who she was killing for this time around but even that had been a lie; she'd been pulled around by exactly the same people that had yanked her and Bucky around like puppets on a string years ago back when she'd been young and had no choice in who - or what - she was made into from one moment to the next and he couldn't even begin to imagine how much that had hurt her. He'd ask her someday. 

Not today, but someday.

Natasha moved again, she took someone running past them to the floor and knocked them unconscious with a foot to the face and he was glad that she'd chosen that instead of the alternative. Bucky's tac team made a hell of a lot of noise as they went through the front of the house but they'd had to blow the doors; it seemed as though the guy had a hell of a lot of locks barring the outside world from entering so easily. 

In that moment, everyone started to fire and everything went to shit more than it already was; fire raged on and the smoke forbade anyone from being able to see clearly. There was so much noise and chaos that keeping track of anyone or anything was absolutely impossible but it allowed her to slip away unnoticed by Steve who had notably gotten distracted by the sound of an explosion; it wasn't a sound unfamiliar to her.

They'd underestimated just how much security he had by at least a dozen and Wanda and Clint held their area well enough, Tony overhead shot out any potential escape routes as the SHIELD team fought to arrest as many as they could; Steve looked around and noted that Natasha had split which admittedly worried him. His shield left his hand knocking two people running toward him to the ground with hits straight in their chests; they were detained seconds later by two SHIELD agents and hauled off toward the van parked on the street out front.

He did a full 360 on the spot and signalled Tony over the comms, informing him that he had no goddamn idea where Natasha had gone and they both knew just how dangerous that was. Steve dodged to the side as another shot was fired toward him; it grazed his arm and once again he let the shield in his hand loose, this time taking the person out with a shot to the head. He found himself hoping that it wouldn't kill them because even over the noise and the chaos he could hear the sickening thud.

She stood in the back of his house, her gun pointed clear at his head; he'd tried to split out of a small gate toward the back of the house and she'd known he would. She'd had the chance to case the place when she'd been here and she stood there face to face with the same monster that had held a gun to her head once upon a time.

"You don't remember me, do you?" She questioned, sounding almost angry.

"The little Russian girl?" He squinted as he studied her.

She could tell that he was trying to place it. She didn't look too different now, slightly older but she hadn't thought for even a second that he'd remember all of the people that he'd used over the years but then he'd paid good money for their blind cooperation.

"The last time we met, you held a gun to my head every day and reminded me that you could do whatever you wanted to me and there was nothing I could do to stop you." She spat.

She wanted nothing more than to end his life here and now, and now she had her chance to do exactly that.

"Where are your handlers?" He questioned, sounding almost arrogant.

"You aren't allowed to shoot anyone they haven't ordered you to shoot and I'm not on their list." He sounded like he knew that for a fact.

It didn't surprise her that they had a list, but it surprised her that he seemed to know about it; was he still using people from the place that she'd come from? That was something that she hadn't thought about.

"I don't work for them anymore." She shrugged her shoulders.

"So I can kill you here and now and there's no one stopping me. I'm not what they made me anymore and you were wrong: I wasn't nothing. I was never nothing and neither was he. You were though. You were a goddamn coward that shot down innocent, unarmed people and for years now I've wanted to kill you. I should've done it then and dealt with the consequences. You deserved it." She cocked the gun.

Natasha smirked. 

"I could've killed you over a week ago but this is better. Your world is burning down around you and you have no choice but to watch it and try to run like the rat you are and no matter which way this ends tonight, you'll never see the light of day again and you will _never _be free. You don't walk away from this."

"And you do? Do you think you walk away from this? You're still a little killer, Natalia." He replied, a laugh breaking his lips.

"Do you think I'm afraid of you? We both know that you're always going to belong to them. Your freedom is a lie just like your life was a lie back then. You're whatever your programming tells you to be and you'll never be a real person. You're here, aren't you? You're still controlled by who they made you." He took a step forward.

She fired her gun but not at his head, rather into his leg and he dropped to the floor. She wanted so badly to put a bullet in his brain then and there for what he'd just said to her alone; she fought like hell not to give in to that side of her because she knew that the people she loved were right: If she did that there may be no way back for her.

"We weren't yours to play with. They weren't yours to kill. They mattered. We mattered." She stated simply. 

He reached for his gun and she shot again, hitting him through the shoulder and he dropped it to the ground again as a yelp of pain broke his lips. She made sure to miss anything vital. She glanced backward at the sound of footsteps and the suit disappeared from around Tony. Natasha turned and walked toward him and handed him her gun. 

"He isn't going anywhere. Call in the SHIELD team to arrest this son of a bitch before I change my mind and kill him." She wanted to. She wanted to so badly.

The voice in her head screamed at her to end his life; the voice inside of her demanded blood and she was fighting like hell not to let it win out. She had too much to fight for. She had too much to lose if she gave in to the anger and hatred she felt toward him.

"Thank you." Tony murmured as he placed his hand on Natasha's shoulder.

"You're doing the right thing, Nat."

She hoped like hell he was right because it didn't _feel _like the right thing to her. She glanced back at their captive and she shook her head.

"I came here tonight with every intention despite what they said to me of killing you, but you were wrong. I'm not that person anymore."

And she walked off before she changed her mind. It was far too close, that was why she'd given Tony her gun. She couldn't stand the temptation. Steve caught her as she rounded the corner and he searched her face with worried blue eyes.

"I didn't do it." She flicked her eyes to the ground.

"I wanted to, but I didn't." She dragged her bottom lip into her mouth, wearing away at it with her teeth. 

"I'm proud of you. You did the right thing." He replied gently.

"Did I?" She didn't believe that for even a second.

"I need to get out of here." She pulled away, walking toward the front of the house ignoring the chaos raging on around her as the SHIELD team took down the remainder of their security. Her eyes fell on his wife who stood by the van with her arms wrapped around herself. 

"Thank you." the woman whispered softly.

Her black eye a testament in and of itself to the fact that this guy was still a huge son of a bitch.

"I'm sorry." Natasha replied.

And with that, the redhead turned and walked away as she ran her hands through her hair and sighed in utter frustration. This part of her hell was over and there was only one left.

One that she wasn't sure that even she was ready to face just yet.


	12. Home is where you go to rest your bones

Back at the compound, the group unloaded their gear from the nights raid and decided upon showering before meeting upstairs in the bar where Tony promised he'd order in food for everyone, making his latest AI - Friday - take note of what everyone wanted so that he didn't have to remember it himself; it was clear that he was just as wiped as the rest of them were. Missions rarely ever meant anyone came home full of energy but they all had a powerful need to wind down and every single one of them could agree on that. 

Bucky had taken a few shots to his vest and so, he had more than a few bruises and what he suspected were a few broken ribs but Natasha had come out of it more or less unscathed and he was glad for that; mentally he could see she was still teetering on an edge but she'd been assured that the son of a bitch would be locked up for the rest of his days and that seemed to offer her comfort at the very least; he knew her list wasn't over just yet and she seemed troubled by something else.

Glancing over at her, he placed his hand on her arm before he gently turned her to look at him.

"Hey, what's going on?" Gently, he studied her face and frowned softly.

"He said they had a list, HYDRA and the Russians. He said they had a list."

"What kind of list?" He could see why that'd worry her.

"A list of people they wanted dead." She replied.

Natasha looked anxious. He couldn't blame her; if they had a list of people they wanted dead there was a reason for it and that reason meant that they were cleaning house more than likely which meant that other girls just like her would be sent after people that had once been clients and if that was the case, there was something far bigger happening that none of them could comprehend. If they wanted people that had paid them once upon a time for services dead then something must have gone wrong or they must suspect they had a leak somewhere along the lines and that meant that there was potential that they'd come after the two of them, too.

Again.

He seemed to find the same train of thought that she had because he looked just as worried as she was. 

"Alright. It's alright. If they're going after people then let them clear the board. If they come after us? We'll deal with it."

They owed nothing to former Red Room or HYDRA clients and he'd be damned if they were going to go out of their way to save them after what they'd made them and people just like them do, but he knew just as well as she did that if there was a hit list out there not only was there a solid chance that either of them if not both were on it and there was a damn good reason they'd made one because killing paying clients was just bad business even for them. That meant someone was talking to someone out there they shouldn't be, or they thought that they were. 

"But for tonight and until we get back from our vacation? We don't worry about that; we'll ask Bobbi to quietly look into it but we don't let them throw us off or make us worry too much." Psychologically, it would do more damage to her right now.

They deserved better. _She _deserved better. She was still trying to heal from her break and she didn't need this deepening those wounds. Cleaning up the messes of monsters wasn't something she needed to be doing right now.

"Go shower, okay? We'll go spend time with everyone before we tell them we're going away for a little while. We can leave tomorrow morning."

Hell, they both needed it now more than ever. 

******

The two of them joined the others who looked far more relaxed than either of them had guessed they would after the days events; food had been delivered already and Tony offered them both a drink the second they walked into the room. It was a huge improvement from just over a week ago where he'd been cursing her to hell for bringing someone into his home that he hated and she supposed it meant there was a small chance that maybe they could all find a way to peacefully coexist. She supposed largely, she had Pepper to thank for it, too.

It had been an insane week, the worst that she'd had by far in a long time and yet in some ways the best too. It was insane how things like that worked. It was honestly senseless how you could find comfort in something, love it and loathe it all at the same time but that - she'd learned - was common, more so than people thought. Being a person came with complexities that had long evaded her but for the last fifteen years, she'd worked like hell to be _normal _in some sense of the word or at least have her own identity which was better. It was better than being a mindless slave, a puppet that was used and abused by terrible people for terrible ends. 

Terrible ends that may not be over by far but for tonight, she could forget about it and enjoy the time she had with people around her that had loved her and supported her even when she'd stopped feeling like she was worthy of it.

"We were discussing Thanksgiving." Steve wandered over as he spoke. 

Bucky smiled then; he hadn't celebrated Thanksgiving since he, Steve and Rebecca had had a makeshift one just before he'd shipped out to fight. He'd worked a couple of them over the years - if you could call it that - and usually it had ended in destruction and a dead body so for that to be different this year would be appreciated.

He looked over at Natasha and she smiled; she could see how happy he was at the prospect. She knew what it'd be like for him to have a whole hell of a lot of firsts all over again just like she had back in the day. Now, they celebrated pretty much _every _holiday that Clint had found. He was horribly festive for just about anything.

Especially Halloween, Christmas, Thanksgiving... Oh, and Valentines day. He drove Bobbi insane with it. She'd threatened to literally shoot him if he didn't drop the cupid shit. 

She quite liked Halloween herself; the costume parties were always quite fun. It was actually nice to have a choice in pretending to be someone else for once.

"Are we doing the Halloween party again this year?" She glanced at Tony as she spoke.

He grinned in response and nodded his head.

"Oh, damn right we are. I can't wait to see what kinda costume your boyfriend here chooses. Honestly, it'll be like seeing a monkey on a bike."

He looked at Bucky and laughed, shaking his head.

"Kidding. Mostly... We dress up every year, all of us. It's fun. There's decorations, lots of booze, costumes. We hand out candy to the kids because Cap is too much of a do-gooder." He shrugged. Tony seemed altogether relaxed.

In truth, it threw Bucky through a loop but he was glad for it at the same time.

"Couple costumes. Honestly, I actually dare you." And with that, he ducked out before Natasha had the chance to hit him.

She honestly looked like she was considering it. She shook her head anyway.

"Yeah, lets not."

"Aw, come on! It could be fun. I haven't done Halloween in 80 years."

"Ouch! Are blackmailing me, Barnes?" She retorted playfully.

"Nope. Not at all." He feigned innocence.

He knew she didn't believe him for even a second but she laughed anyway. She hadn't even thought about whether or not he'd want to dress up until that moment; she hadn't really thought about how he felt about any of the Holiday season period given everything that he'd endured over the years but maybe it would be different for him than it had with her.

She'd _hated _the idea but Clint had literally bugged her into it and she'd found that she actually quite enjoyed it. It had been a refreshing change though she hadn't forgotten for even a second that the last time she'd even celebrated Christmas to any degree before that first year with Clint and SHIELD had been with James.

James. She still refused to call him Bucky.

"If that's what you wanna do? Alright. I'm okay with that."

Bucky and Steve looked at one another before both looked back at Natasha as though she'd just told them she was a goddamn alien. 

"What, really?" He asked dubiously.

Steve looked undoubtedly curious.

"Yeah. It's the first you've had since you got out. If that's what you want? I'm good." Natasha shrugged gently and smiled. 

She reached out to brush his cheek gently with her fingers. The soft fond smile that touched his lips made her realise in that moment that now, they were both free for once and they'd fight like hell to stay that way, not only that but they had the chance to do the whole normal couple thing that they'd talked about wanting that seemed so impossible once upon a time.

This was their shot. Their shot at being normal, their shot at having a regular life together as a couple.

Their shot at being happy me if that included him wanting all that cheesy stuff they'd never got to have before she could get over wanting to cringe for his sake. Relationships were about compromise and that was one compromise she could live with.

"So, I anyway! Natasha and I are leaving in the morning for a vacation. Three weeks in a very remote lake house just her and I, we need it."

Still, Bucky looked almost apologetic as he spoke to Steve. Steve though grinned at the idea and clapped his best friend on the shoulder.

"That's great, Buck. It'll be good for both of you." He could appreciate how much they'd need something like that.

After what they'd both been through, some time together to get themselves into some kind of sense of normal in their relationship would be good for them. He knew that they had a lot to figure out, both of them had told him as much when he'd spoken to them both respectively.

"You've earned it, go have fun. Relax." He looked at Natasha now as he spoke.

She knew he was right, they had earned it. Years of pain and torment meant that that one simple vacation was long, long overdue and she couldn't wait to go.

Three straight weeks with her and the man she loved seemed like heaven after all they'd been through just to get here now.

Come morning, they'd be miles away and the only thing that'd matter was each other.


End file.
